At Any Moment II
by OzRatbag2
Summary: After the battle is over and some of the secrets are revealed, there are always a few moments more... Epistolary and narrative. SS&HG, with MMcG&AD. COMPLETE - Final Chapter posted. Epilogues to follow.
1. Hermione I

**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author Note: **Manythanks to the wonderful, Niamh for betaing this so quickly for me.

**Hermione I**

_12 months later..._

Bloody Hell! I kissed him!

I mean, well, I'm not altogether too sure what I mean, but what on earth made me do that?

At least I didn't _really_ kiss him, and...well, it was just a peck on the side of the head, but honestly, did I have to bloody write it down as well? If it's any consolation to my poor nerves, I didn't mean to do it. I've no idea what I was thinking of at the time – I was in shock. Well, at least I think I was in shock. If I wasn't in shock then – I am now. No wonder I felt like an insect pinned to a corkboard that night in the Staffroom. He just kept looking at me like I was an unfortunate witness – and I guess I was in a way.

You know, I haven't even thought to open this journal since that night. Too much else going on, I suppose. How was I supposed to pick up the pieces of that last few weeks knowing all the while that someone else was privy to my thoughts – all my thoughts? And then Professor Dumbledore basically told me in front of everyone that I was right to be suspicious all along...and here I am writing in you again!

It feels strange to start all over again, but in another way, it feels like I've found a piece of myself I hadn't thought about for a while. Like putting away something when you know you'll eventually have to pull it out and deal with it...all of it. I don't even feel like I'm being coerced to do it – almost like I need to get it all down finally so that I can move on with the rest of my life.

I honestly forgot to pick you up, _'little book,'_ on my way out of the Staffroom, but there you were again in my belongings when I finally woke up six weeks after the battle. I don't know which was stranger, really. Waking up at home; my old home, or waking up at home, rolling over and the seeing Crookshanks as he cleaned his _'bits.'_ Ugh – it's making me sick just thinking about it now.

It was strange waking up at home. It took me about a month or so to stop expecting to hear Mum and Dad lob in the door at odd hours grumbling about the dodgy upper molar that really needed root canal therapy, or how such and such; who's my age, finally had their wisdom teeth _'break through_._' _I couldn't work out how the place felt so warm and looked after – like someone had been kind enough to infuse the place with some...love, I think. That isn't the right word, but I don't know how to describe it without sounding really pathetic. I can't remember what time I woke up, but it was in the afternoon and I felt hungry. So, I had a shower and then wandered downstairs to see if there was any money sitting in the old cracked sugar jar in the kitchen. I don't know who got the bigger shock when I bumped into an unknown body coming out of the kitchen - Professor McGonagall or myself.

I don't think she was terribly happy about all the swearing I did either, but I got so much of a surprise that I just...well, the words just came tumbling out. I can laugh about it now, but she wasn't happy to think I used _'those sorts of words.'_

She really wasn't happy when I quipped that I was a perfect example of Hogwarts _'other'_ education, with a swear word for every occasion. Honestly, I think I must have still been half asleep, but she didn't say anything, just pursed her lips into a very thin line, asked me why I was up and then shooed me into the living room all the while telling me that she'd organise dinner.

So she did – and she kept me company once everything started coming back to me. I hadn't even realised that my memory was circumspect until she started to try and tease bits of information from me. We talked about all sorts of things that first few weeks, things I didn't write down – partly because I promised her that I wouldn't, and partly because it didn't feel right to betray a confidence. I also have a sneaky suspicion that you know even more than I do, Arcanus.

That feels so strange calling you something specific, when for so long you were just, _'little book.'_ That actually seems like a really childish name, but it suited you at the time I wrote everything else, and in some ways, it's stranger to know you actually have a name.

Professor McGonagall; though she was just about the only one, believed me when I said that, _'all I saw was a blinding white light and then I passed out.'_ Didn't sound terribly heroic then, and it still sounds like a convenient excuse for, _'I don't want to talk about it'_.

I've never understood why people who weren't present always want the _'gory details'_ to events they were lucky enough to avoid. It's really rather macabre actually – almost as though they get their kicks out of finding out who lived and who died. Why can't they just appreciate that those who were there really don't want to dissect things to their satisfaction? I think the Ministry of Magic was the worst of all. They wanted to know how I was...where I was, who was around me, what Harry was doing, what other students were around me – who lived, who died, who was injured, who ran away? The list was endless really. I spent so many precious sunny days locked into a room trying to remember what I had for breakfast that fateful morning right up to Professor Snape crying out in the heat of the battle. The rest is a great big fuzzy blank.

Pr...Minerva; she told me to call her that, did fill in some of the blanks for me with a Pensieve she'd dropped some of her recollections into just after it was all over and done with. The light – the blinding white hot light that seemed to consume everything was the rather bizarre ending to it all. She told me then that I should ask you, Arcanus, to tell me what had happened, but I really just was so sick of it all by the time I'd finished being grilled for information I didn't actually have, that I just wasn't in the mood. Not terribly brave of me, but there you have it.

So what made me pick you up now after all this time? You know, I'm not actually sure. What I do know is that even if you didn't realise it, you helped me over a really difficult time in my life. You didn't judge me – well, at least I hope you didn't judge me! Most of all though; quips aside, it was just something that I needed to do, even with your gentle persuasion to write.

God, I still can't believe I bloody kissed him!

Why didn't you stop me?

I know, I know, you weren't there at the time. You had to rely on my gullibility to write it all down, but I don't actually think in the long run that I was gullible. I listened to my Headmaster when he told me I...'was well favoured,' and I suppose that in a way I was. I'm still a bit in the dark about your gift to me, but I got that awful dream laugh sorted out. Maybe Mum was trying to tell me something and it took a Pensieve full of grief to sort it all out into something that helped me to get the whole thing in perspective.

Grief...

That's all that I remember clearly, other than the light, of course. So much pain, so much death and so much hatred focused on the school grounds. No one should ever have to feel that sort of concentrated malevolence ever again – and I hope I never will. Minerva told me I was blocking it all out but that I'd have to deal with all of it sooner or later...or it'd just fester and lead to even more suffering. She said no one should have to suffer _that_ battle more than was entirely necessary.

So we helped each other and ended up very close friends. It's a bit like I got a surrogate Mum without either of us consciously directing things that way. I don't even think Mum; wherever she is, would really mind. She always said Professor McGonagall _'had her life writ large upon her face.' _I love to tell her how right she was, but I have the sense that she already knows.

I'm rambling, aren't I? I had thought I'd just sit down and write like I used to do, but it all changed the minute the Headmaster dropped the bombshell in the Staffroom that night. I felt like an interloper – and Professor Snape; probably unconsciously, made sure I felt like I'd intruded upon a student free sanctuary. I can laugh about that night now. I even teased Minerva about it – about how she and Professor Snape looked as though they were about to make a break for the door...as though their sanity depended on it. Minerva pointed out that I certainly didn't look comfortable about the whole thing...and then we had a good long laugh at the idea of Professor Snape hitching up his robes and rushing headlong out of the room in a flat panic.

You know, I still don't know what happened to him after that night, but he was very close to the light – in fact it seemed to radiate from him. I was with Harry and Ron; of course, but Ron thankfully stayed out of arm's reach from me. I think he finally worked out that I'd grown away from him...from both of them, but that this was one final job that had to be done. Our friendship changed and none of us could pin down what we could do to rekindle it. I'm still at a loss to explain it, but it hurts – deep down it hurts so much that I think I'll leave that musing locked away for a little while longer.

Anyway, the battle was as bloody and gruesome as I expected it to be. I almost wish that Minerva hadn't helped me tease the memories out, but it's a silly wish to have continually wondered about a blank that might have surfaced at some moment; when I wasn't expecting it, in the future.

Once Professor Dumbledore had dropped his bombshell and left us all in stunned silence, the noise of the teachers around me squabbling in hushed and panicked tones around me was unnerving. My job was to go to Gryffindor Tower, wake Harry and Ron and bring them back to the Staffroom. I managed to do that fairly quickly – thankfully. Neither of them seemed to be _entertaining_ for which I was very grateful. The thought of interrupting Ron with whatever girl had been stupid enough to believe his, _'you're the only one for me'_, spiel makes me feel angry and slightly nauseated even now with a little distance. So, after much cajoling and a few small threats I got the pair of them to the Staffroom. Our part was easy – keep each other in sight and form a united front.

We did that, but what the teachers didn't explain to us was that Voldemort would be so prepared to mow down anyone in his path to Harry; that he would be so cold blooded and calculated with Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix LeStrange on either side of him. Each with a smile – a grim visage – plastered to their faces as some poor hapless student or teacher got too close to their objective. It's one of the clearest things that I saw from Minerva's Pensieve. They enjoyed the blood and killing. In fact, I suppose it's not too far of a stretch to say they relished the pain and suffering as their own twisted form of ambrosia.

Professor Snape and Minerva huddled close to the three of us; protecting our flanks from the dark creatures whom Voldemort seemed to have attracted to his 'cause.' I was glad they were there and I shed more than a few tears once it all started to come back to me with all the, _'what ifs'_ that spiralled away from the knowledge that without them there, I wouldn't be writing this.

I have no idea how long the battle around us wore on, but it was as though all of the terror was encapsulated into random and jerky acts. Minerva told me it was all over in a little less than an hour, but it seemed like days from where I was standing. I know I kept looking worriedly at Harry because he'd spent most of the year as a basket case, but he seemed calm – unnervingly calm, and that in itself was more than a bit worrying.

Voldemort's end was almost the biggest anti-climax of the night. All Harry did was lift his wand and quietly say, _'Avada Kedavra'_ and that was that. Well, it wasn't quite that, but in that instant I knew that Harry had wanted to do anything other than utter those two words. Minerva immobilised LeStrange easily as she was about to repeat the curse back to Harry, but the biggest surprise was when Lucius Malfoy addressed Prof...Minerva the way he did. He'd been counting on the shock to cause us all to lose our concentration – and it worked too. It was all in Minerva's Pensieve and I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen my own shock reflected back at me. Minerva had already told me the whole story before we went into the Pensieve, but it was still a shock to realise that it wasn't some black joke being played out in front of me.

I have tendrils of memory from that night, but until Minerva helped me _'join the dots'_ it was just a vast jumble of sensation and fear. That's what the Aurors' at the Ministry couldn't understand. They thought I was being deliberately vague, but I wasn't. Even now as I write this, it all seems so much clearer than it was when I actually lived through it. It's surreal, as though I'm recounting something I witnessed as a bystander, not as an active participant. I think that's partly why I had no concept of time during all of it. Because time stopped except for a few clear moments, and most of them were gleaned from Minerva's Pensieve.

The only two people who didn't look surprised with Malfoys statement were Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall. In fact, Professor Snape moved slightly in front of Minerva; as though unconsciously shielding her, and stayed still as Lucius Malfoy continued to rant at our little group. He cast _Crucio_ on both Harry and Ron, with a casual flick of his wand and then turned to Minerva and me. I don't know how I found myself so near; almost behind her, but I was and it's probably what saved me in the end – that and the light. As Lucius Malfoy lifted his wand, the hatred crackling around him intensified and as he started to cast his curse, Professor Snape yelled, _'No!'_ very clearly and leapt in front of the pair of us.

And then all I was left with was light. A burning, almost iridescent light enveloped all of us, and when I tried to look around Minerva's memory...all I could see was more light radiating across the whole school. It was as though the very texture of the landscape had been consumed. I must have fainted then because I don't remember anything else. Even the Pensieve couldn't tell me what I'd missed and Minerva herself told me she had been unconscious for nearly a week following it all as well.

It took a long time to get rid of my puzzlement once Minerva had started my journey with me – so long and so tortuous, and in some ways it still seems distant – another lifetime ago, in fact. That's partly why I started writing again. I decided it was time to make sense of the chaotic jumble and move on.

And then I realised that I'd bloody kissed him!

I wonder; if I ever see him again, whether or not I could tell him that was inadvertently channelling my mother and be done with it?

No, maybe not...

**_All constructive criticism, comments and reviews are most welcome!_**


	2. Severus I

**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author Note: **Manythanks to the wonderful, **Niamh** for betaing this so quickly for me.

**Severus I**

_12 months later..._

I'm surprised to see myself opening this journal again as I have for the last week or so. What surprises me more now is that I've again chosen to begin writing in you again. Unlike that first appearance in what still seems like a different lifetime ago, I actually feel no compulsion to write – or perhaps more correctly, I feel no outside compulsion to continue to use you as my confessor.

I wonder what changed in the interim?

A flippant question with an equally flippant answer waiting I've no doubt, but Arcanus, it is my time to thank you and I would appreciate you being silent as I try and work out how exactly to start.

I think at this point I'd be more surprised if you did finally decide to stick your oar in, but it can wait until I've tried to make sense of the jumble of my mind. I'm still in somewhat of a quandary as to how I ended up being one of those whom you decided to gift, though gift is probably the wrong word – treasure would be better.

That night...gods that night seems etched forever in my memory though the first part of the beginnings I could have done without, all of it – the mirror, the pain, the carnage all around me – all of it made sense once I'd started to recover my equilibrium. So many wasted lives, so much suffering and so much relief when it was all finally done with. I gained my freedom in that very final moment, and I only realised it a few weeks ago.

It's been playing on my mind and you...this journal...well, it worked before to help me make sense of things; even if it never seemed so at the time, so I'm hoping it might just help me now.

I have a parchment sitting in front of me that I had never thought to ever be able to personally deliver. I've had it in my mind for years, that upon my death it would be found in amongst my personal belongings. I've had this letter ever since I turned twenty-one; after my first year of teaching was over, and I knew in my heart of hearts that given half the chance I would have cheerfully murdered the little buggers if not released from my contract. It contains the most deliberately chosen words all couched in the broadest terms, but with some addenda, and they leave Albus knowing in no uncertain terms that it is time for me to leave this...sanctuary and start making a place for myself in the greater world. I'm still of two minds whether I might make that world a little more Muggle than many might suspect me capable of. And then the old devil decided to go away for a few weeks leaving the school in Minerva's capable hands. He'll keep, but he'll not dissuade me from my decision, even though I do know he'll try.

This last year has been trying! I've been reading everything that I could; including a few of Albus' more esoteric tomes, as I tried to work out exactly what happened on the field of battle, but to no avail. So I suppose that I must ask you, Arcanus to fill in those most precious blanks in my memory. Albus did tell me once all had been resolved that you would – and could – be most elusive if you felt the answer wasn't really necessary to, _'the greater scheme of things.'_ It's just my luck of course to have a scheming Headmaster in collaboration with a scheming journal. How the Fates must be laughing at that irony, particularly as I have been someone who always sought a more concrete answer. No matter, I will not be dissuaded from my path and I have _'things'_ all arranged for my new life and...freedom.

How I relish that word. It is like the sweetest peach on the warmest of summer days. An enticing mix of so many different things that I'm unsure of how to define it otherwise, except to say that I never thought to find myself at a loss in defining it. I am a free man after so many years, granted a _'manumission'_ I had never expected – well, not expected to be living through at any rate. You will have to excuse my wholly enthusiastic glee at the prospect of being able to look beyond the horizon of expectation, Arcanus. It is a position that I find myself thoroughly enjoying and all the more ready to experience away from your home...and by default, my home as well. That it has been my home for so long is not lost on me, but I almost feel as though it has taken me an extraordinarily long time to learn what I needed to learn, and longer still to work out that I need to be away from this place. I...I feel everything stifling me and there is a whole life ahead of me to enjoy – starting now. The students will be finished with their final N.E.W.T examination shortly and I'm sure that they will be most put out by the fact that their most hated teacher really couldn't give a toss about correcting their papers. It is almost as though I want to see if I can manage to make it away from the school grounds before they...escape on the Hogwarts Express tomorrow.

All of this ruminating is of course dependant on Albus having the good grace to show up for the Leaving Feast this evening, but present or not, I shall tender my resignation to Minerva and be done with it.

He, Albus, was like this after the battle as well. Just hared off for nearly two weeks afterwards and couldn't be found anywhere. I have no doubt that the Ministry of Magic held him prisoner to their whims for a considerable portion of that time, but I've no doubt he stayed away a little longer deliberately. He knew all too well that Minerva and I wanted some rather frank answers to the whole mystery behind your appearance, and the resultant unpredictable end to the whole thing. For Potter to calmly raise his wand and merely utter two words; disgustingly simple though it appeared to be, was unexpected. To then find myself shielding both Minerva and Miss Granger from the malicious depravity of Lucius Malfoy was another thing entirely.

I don't know what made me jump in front of them, all the while trying to shield them from Lucius' wrath, but I did exactly that and...then there was that light engulfing everything and everybody. It seemed to be emanating from me though I've no idea why and I could sense its benevolence in a way. It's very hard to describe and even with the benefit of thinking about it for a whole year, it still seems unreal. It's almost as though I am trying to remember something life changing but without the vocabulary to adequately describe the peace of that light – the blinding peace and hope that that light promised in some unspoken way. It sounds all too trite, but in that moment I felt invincible, though not so invincible that I didn't have the most appalling headache and general malaise for about a week after the battle.

When the light finally dissipated, I was left with the sneering visage of Lucius Malfoy dead at my feet; with not a mark on him, and the unconscious forms of Minerva, Miss Granger, Potter and Weasley. Potter even had the temerity to have a slight smile on his face. That self serving smug knowledge of realising that Voldemort was finally gone this time. I suppose; in retrospect, I should at least give the little bastard the credit for removing the collar and leash from around my neck, but to be completely honest, I really couldn't be bothered giving the little cretin something else to gloat about. As the _'saviour'_ – and how that word irks me – of our world, he will have by now received so much praise that to add my voice to the throng would be at best...well, I'm not altogether sure what the best would be, but I didn't want to do it! That makes me sound like a selfish prick, and maybe I am in a roundabout way, but he should have been thanking me for shielding his sorry hide all those years.

I'm digressing again, but how he infuriates me even still.

I was questioned, re-questioned and then summoned before the Aurors' time and again in the days following it all, whilst Potter was left to his 'adoring throng' of supporters. Not once did I see him query anyone as to the whereabouts of Miss Granger, but then it seemed quite obvious that his brain had left for lower quarters once his depression had abated, and he started to foster a liking for some of his more enthusiastic supporters. I took great glee in informing Minerva that Mr Weasley had also thoroughly enjoyed his moment in the spotlight with Potter's cast-offs. She threatened to hex me if I gave her details and it would have almost been worth it to watch her go a delicate shade of green.

It was my only real spot of mirth in those weeks following the end of it all.

I keep coming back to the light, but more than the light, there was the oddest sensation of knowing absolutely that those who were dying around me were releasing their souls onto the wind. It wasn't tangible in any other way than I knew it was happening because there would be the oddest waft of sudden breeze around me suddenly; at a slightly cooler temperature, and then the muffled sound of a body falling near me. Then I'd look around as if expecting that someone had merely tripped over some patch of scuffed dirt, only to see a lifeless body staring back at me. You know, Arcanus, I had expected people to grimace, to show signs of pain and shock, but most had the oddest sense of peace about them – as though having left this earth they could wander wherever they felt the urge to go. In fact, I think the only faces that looked as tormented; as I supposed all of them should have looked, were those who'd thrown their lot in with Riddle. I sense wherever they now wander, it isn't at all peaceful, but then perhaps that's my own evaluation and it is; in its own way, thankfully uniformed from a first hand perspective.

Carnage...

That's all I really remember clearly. Looking at all the lives around me...wasted, and knowing that for whatever reason, I should have been one of them. That I wasn't found, magically tagged and lifted gently onto a stretcher for burial or burning, leaves me with the sober impression that I still have quite a lot of living left to do. I do however grieve for those who could not continue their own personal journey as well – yes even those who followed blindly after Riddle's madness and megalomania. I would at least like to think that most of them had no idea of what they'd shackled themselves to, but for some, it might just have been a release to let go of this world. I do hope that wherever they wander now it's at least a bit more peaceful that Riddle's unwholesome vision would have created.

Strangely enough, I do extend the hope of peaceful resolution to Lucius and...a few others as well. I know he didn't ever really deserve my sympathy for his passing, and I am glad I am writing this instead of him. He would be sitting here gloating over a victory that would have seen so much killing and prejudice as a _'just'_ reward, but I can't help wondering if; with the turning of the pendulum, his life might not have been better without his upbringing. That suggests that I might have done better, when my own upbringing was less than a perfect ideal, but to turn on your mother and spew so much hatred at her was his own undoing in a way. I still don't really understand why I stepped in front of Minerva and Miss Granger, but I did, and when it was all finally done, I helped transport both of them up the makeshift Infirmary on the lawn in front of the main entrance.

I have a feeling it's something I'll have to think about for a while longer...

I had to wait for nearly a week after the battle before Minerva had the good grace to wake up and distract me from the urge to hex most of the Ministry into oblivion. It would have ensured that I may just have found out from a first hand perspective just how tormented my soul might be, but Minerva stayed my hand on more than one occasion. I repaid her in turn when Albus finally showed up two weeks later, as though nothing untoward had happened in the interim.

Albus, in his typically frustrating and cryptic tone, said that he'd had, _'a few things to do'_ and then left it at that. He didn't apologise to either of us and I dare say Minerva had more than a few words to say on that issue alone...once I'd left his office. I'd not actively thought about it until now, but they do; in a roundabout sort of fashion, actually complement each other.

It's an idle wish, but perhaps now that I have chosen to leave Hogwarts, I might also be able to find someone who complements me.

**_All constructive criticism, comments and reviews are most welcome!_**


	3. Minerva I

**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author Note: **Manythanks to the wonderful, Niamh for betaing this so quickly for me.

**Minerva I**

_12 months later..._

It doesn't feel like it's been all that long ago since I opened you up, but just as each day passes in the blink of an eye, it's a year to the day since the despicable waste of life that occurred on these...now peaceful grounds. No one, save those of us who lived through it, would be able to tell where we were standing on that day, but the sense of wonderment over the great expanse of open air in front of the castle, has now given way (in my memory, at least) to the screams and torment of that day. It's as though the very souls – or whatever - of those who died have never really left the place. Albus in his usual smug way said that I should ask you for the answers, but I've had a hard enough time picking up various threads of my life that unravelled on that day. Looking elsewhere for answers was the least of my concerns.

I have only a vague recollection of the battle against Grindelwald. I was young and in love at the time and that battle didn't take place on my very doorstep. I'm glad of that in a way, for unlike Albus, I don't have to sit down and try and work out if I missed something I should have seen. Oh, he hasn't said anything, of course, but I do know him well enough to know that the odd wistful look that appears on his face is when he thinks to remind someone of something and then realises that he can't. It's his own particular way of remembering. I suppose he could have connections in some instances, but then that would make him truly omnipotent and he is anything but all knowing and all seeing!

That thought alone is ludicrous, but I do wonder at the sheer audacity to use Riddle's craving for renown against him. A prophecy; a false prophecy no less, laid out where he knew it would be found and a few words whispered around false friends...and it was done. Deceptively bright of him to use such a ploy and though he seemed calm at that odd _'meeting'_ in the Staffroom, I know that he was anything but calm. It all hinged on one small parcel of misinformation, and had Riddle not believed that one piece of nonsense, things might just have been much worse.

I dread to think how much worse it could have been...

Not that it wasn't as bad as I imagined it. It was worse in so many ways that it's hard to count them up. From that moment when Albus dropped the idea of Severus, Miss Granger and myself being, _'keys'_ to some unbidden gift, as absurd as that sounds, my world shifted at that very moment. I felt like a pawn. I felt like the pawn Severus has no doubt felt all these years. I know I looked at Albus as though he'd betrayed me, and he had in a roundabout sort of way. We've always based our relationship on trust. It was as though he didn't trust me with a secret of such epic proportions that to lay it out so baldly really was an oversight on his part. I suppose that what hurt more was that he knew all about you, Arcanus, and yet you didn't think to trust us with that knowledge. I laid my soul out on that parchment, as I've no doubt Hermione and Severus did, judging by the looks of unadulterated shock on both their faces. I wish; with the benefit of hindsight, that he'd thought to take the three of us aside and tell us first.

I'm getting ahead of myself, but when I woke up after it was all over, and he was nowhere in sight, I knew that in part, he was hiding from me and the words I intended to have with him. He might be able to face down those who oppose him, but he's never quite been able to do so with me...and the old bugger knows it too! The fact that he knows that I know, makes it all the more frustrating to get him to admit to a mistake and not simply ignore it in the hope that it will go away. He treated Harry like that in a way. Deep down he knew that Harry was the lynchpin in the whole sordid mess, but until Hermione managed, by whatever means, to get both him and Mr Weasley to the Staffroom, nothing was assured.

What a mess that would have been!

The aftermath of Albus' announcements in the Staffroom that night could have so easily been pandemonium. That it wasn't utter chaos was due in part to Severus and his own _'style'_ at defusing potentially disastrous outcomes. The noise of panic is something I had not thought possible amongst a; generally, fairly mature teaching staff. That Hermione sat there looking relatively calm, though she did tell me later that she was in no way calm, but teetering on all out blind panic, I'm all the more grateful that Severus managed to calm everyone enough to get them to their assigned duties. My job was to work with Filius and get the younger years to the marshalling point near the Great Hall. All students from third year down were roused from their beds quickly and we managed to get the job done in just under two hours...as you well know. Hermione's task, and I didn't envy her it at all, was to rouse Harry and Ronald Weasley from whatever position she found them in and bring them back to the Staffroom as quickly as possible. Once everyone, save Severus, had their assignments in front of them, he left hurriedly with Poppy Pomfrey to go over the supplies in the Infirmary and make up the deficit with his own personal supplies. Both Severus and Poppy were the last ones to appear back in the Staffroom just over three hours later, and it left precious little time to gather the students fourth year and above into the Great Hall.

Thankfully, it appeared that the castle was having a relatively celibate night and though I must at some time ask Severus, I've no idea how he got just over a hundred students assembled in a little over thirty minutes. I doubt any of us would have achieved half of what we needed to do that night without the help of the House ghosts. Between all of us we managed to get the students sorted by abilities just as the ceiling in the Great Hall started to _'bleed'_ at the edges. You've a sick sense of drama, Arcanus, but it was a sobering image to watch that glorious night sky gradually transform into a less tolerable view. I still find it hard to believe that I can't still see traces of blood on that extravagant bit of Transfiguration.

Everyone looked up once the change was noticed and it was sobering to hear all the chatter and whispers end abruptly. As if unspoken, Severus and I positioned ourselves near the group of seventh year students surrounding Harry, Hermione and Mr Weasley. As our little group was about to move out of the Great Hall, Severus – as only he could – turned and bluntly told all assembled that he _'expected to see them later in the day to sit their exam papers'_ as he'd not gone to all that trouble _'for nothing'_. It broke the tension unlike any other platitude and the whole hall laughed in varying degrees. That was the last time I heard many of them laugh...ever again, but it worked at the time. Added to the fact that we'd all taken pains to sort them all by ability, rather than House allegiance and for the first time in many years, I felt sure that they'd all work as a team.

And they did; in the main, guard each others' backs and take care of those less able students. I just wish that more of them could have lived to sit those delayed examinations...

Once outside, it all happened very quickly, though it did at the time seem as though it would take forever for Riddle and his entourage to reach our group. Everyone, unwittingly, seemed to have formed a circle around Mr Potter and it was sobering to realise that Severus and I had joined in that circle as well. Riddle, Lucius and Bellatrix, in a disgusting mockery of a triumvirate, blasted anyone in their way as they made their way towards us. I've no idea how many died as they cut a swathe through the duelling around us, but all too soon they were upon us and it seemed as though out of the ten or so initially in our little circle, only five of us were left. I didn't think to look around until the light started to consume everything and then the tragedy was illuminated for all to see.

The most anti-climactic part of the whole fight was Harry. He quietly raised his wand, pointed it at Riddle and said, _'Avada Kedavra'_ in a hushed tone. He dropped his wand as soon as he'd said those two words – as though in shock that it had indeed worked. Riddle, lying crumpled not more than three feet away from Harry Potter, is an image I'll never lose. The shock of it all almost gave _that_ LeStrange woman the chance to fire the same curse back at Harry, but I managed to neutralise that mad woman very quickly.

I've always had an inkling about the depth of hatred that Lucius had nurtured inside him, but until he started his rant in front of our little group, not even I would have believed it to be quite so malicious. All I can clearly remember; because I was still alert for any mischief around me, was that he was _'so glad that I'd managed to survive so long, because he'd always vowed that he'd be the one to kill his bitch of a mother!'_ The shock was evident on those three students left around me and the gasp of shock was audible, though I've no idea who it came from. Then Lucius flicked his wand casually at both Messrs Potter and Weasley and they both fell instantly to the ground writhing under a Cruciatus I was sure was meant for me. Miss Granger had somehow managed to find herself partially behind me; on my left, and I could see Severus standing stiffly to my right. Lucius lifted his wand in a jerky motion and just as he was about to cast the Killing Curse, Severus called out, _'No!'_ and moved in front of the two of us.

And then the light started to spread out from Severus. It was the most unusual thing I've ever seen. It was almost as though Severus was shielding us...and yet I don't recall him using his wand. I know I looked around to see everything blurring under the relentless glare, but it's all very fuzzy after that, and it wasn't until I woke up with a thumping great headache nearly a week later that I found out that Severus had apparently emerged from the whole thing unscathed. That's not the right word, because I doubt that anyone present was left unscathed by _that_ battle.

Futility...

That's the overriding feeling I have from it all. That Riddle's blind fanaticism sought to remove everyone not in agreement with his 'ideals' from conscious thought. Add to this the fact that so many believed the rhetoric and then faced off against each other highlighted the futility of it all. For at some time, in some future age, someone else may well have the same thought, and then those unknown future generations will have to deal with this whole mess all over again. I do realise that it's futile to second guess history that has yet to occur, but I can only hope that the friendships formed during the latest adversity might just prevail over madness.

I know it's an idle wish, Arcanus, but thankfully it is one that I won't be around to witness.

Once Albus had returned to the castle a week after I woke up, I found out that Miss...that Hermione had been taken to her parents' home in Surrey to recuperate and that she was in a sleep that no potion or spell seemed to be able to wake her from. So I went and looked after her for that next month until she woke up and scared the daylights out of me with her language.

We helped each other in a way and for all the misery in between; for both of us, we have a friendship I would have not have thought possible in the aftermath of all that grief.

**_All constructive criticism, comments and reviews are most welcome!_**


	4. Albus I

**DISCLAIMER:**This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author Note: **Manythanks to the wonderful, Niamh for betaing this so quickly for me.

**Albus I**

_12 months later..._

And so we begin again, Arcanus. It's an odd feeling to open you and start a new chapter, as I felt no urge to continue to unfold the minutiae of my life after your last visit to me. You, of course, may choose to argue that I've left it altogether too long to come back to you this time. I can offer no particular reason other than I had a few things to do in this interim time. Not much to show for it either I might add, but then often the most important things resolve themselves in such a way that time gains a whole new fluidity.

I've no doubt you know a great deal of what I've been doing these many months. After all, most of it did occur under your very nose, so to speak, and I'm not so blinded as to not understand why it is that I now need to come back and finish this final chapter of my life. But how I wish it would all resolve itself without need of my interference! There are so many things hanging, waiting almost breathlessly to sort themselves out. I had hoped that the shock of the final confrontation might have spurred action from all those concerned, but grief blinds more often than it heals and our world still needs to heal a great many rifts. You should excuse me, old friend for my melancholic nature. It seems Severus shared more of himself than he realises.

I'm not sure how to start to tell of my frustration with everything around me these last months. I am constantly on edge, shifting aimlessly in the vain hope that someone might give me an anchoring point, but to no avail. The first few weeks following Riddle's attack on Hogwarts and Harry were almost more healing than these last eleven months together. I do understand that my view is hardly objective, but I visited so many families of students lost on the front lawn that day that it's hard to make very much sense of anything.

As you are aware, I did try to start and tell you where I'd been not long after my many tasks had been completed, but it never seemed like the right time. Perhaps more truthfully, I had no idea how to start...and so I prevaricated and dawdled in coming back to you. I never felt like this with the old journal, but perhaps I have in many ways invested so much of myself this time that I felt depleted and careworn for not coming back to tidy things up sooner.

All...everything is still in some ways a large puzzle, of which the final few pieces are missing. How cryptic of me, but I've no other way to describe it to my satisfaction, and so I must rely on allegorical examples to try and muddle my way through the tumult swirling around restlessly.

What a mess Riddle bequeathed to our world! So many lives were touched, damaged; and some, all too close to home, destroyed. I simply cannot understand the futility of why we as thinking individuals must rely on might rather than consultation to resolve what are, all in all, minor quibbles in worded rhetoric? An idle observance, Arcanus, but still one that I've thought of more and more over the last year.

I too have had to rebuild relationships of long standing. Harry won't talk to me other than to remark on the mundane occurrences in his daily life, and I suppose I really can't blame him for his avoidance. I am, after all, a rather too potent reminder of a lifetime he would in many ways prefer to forget. He has deluded himself into believing that whilst regarded as a hero to the Wizarding world, he is in many ways a murderer – an avenger who sought out Riddle to expunge the mire of emotion surrounding the death of his parents. He simply will not listen to reason. His guilt at the relief of finally being free of the fear of those who wanted him dead is something he will have to reconcile in his own way. It didn't help that he was lauded as a _'saviour'_ and shown largesse and gratitude in its many myriad forms. So he flies all day for a living – for a second level team whom he wants to help in his own way. It's as though he's swapped causes without actually realising it.

It's another mark against me that I misread his intentions so horribly. I failed him in so many ways that it's hard to understand just what the turning point actually was.

I failed so many when my support was sorely needed...so many things all hanging in limbo. Some that only now are starting to resolve and heal.

That's partly why I've been so long in talking to you again. I knew in those first harried weeks of 'freedom' that my melancholy would have been poor payment for your friendship. I was also waiting for you to tell me to stop being maudlin and just get on with it.

And so I avoided starting what I've started now...

It's all of little consequence to you I've no doubt, but though light was the victor on the day, it was a price almost too high to pay for the luxury of being able to sit here and write about it all. A petty poor payment for so much sacrifice, if you will.

Now I am being maudlin, but as I've decided to get it all down, I should just move on and stop wallowing in my own self pity. I'm not altogether too sure where to start when it comes right down to it, but I suppose that fateful meeting in the Staffroom is perhaps the most important stepping stone in all of it. My mother always told me, Arcanus, to start any story at the beginning, as I was all too fond even then of going off on tangents that had nothing whatsoever to do with whatever I'd done. It never stopped me from trying, though, particularly when Aberforth and I had done something for which we both knew a punishment would be forthcoming. That really is so long ago and I've no idea why I've thought of it now. Suffice to say that it's much harder to write everything down rather than relying on a Pensieve to recollect things for me.

What a night! I should, in retrospect, I should have taken Severus, Minerva and Miss Granger aside before blurting the whole thing out in front of the other staff, but such is the benefit of hindsight, that I didn't, and both Severus and Minerva made sure to point out repeatedly just how livid they were with the whole spectacle. I think that of the two of them...I really still cannot decide who I hurt more with the pronouncement, but at least Miss Granger didn't look as though she wanted to flay me on the spot. Severus and Minerva, on the other hand though...

War...

I'm waffling again, trying to find a right introduction to it all, but I should have realised sooner that there is no right way to remember any war. Despite polite entreaties from various factions, it was a war. A long drawn out, bitter and divisive war. A war where we, the victors; have spent the last year trying to work out what we might have missed that could have avoided such an appalling loss of life, and in many circles...trying to find a scapegoat for the chaos it all created.

Severus seemed for a time to be the perfect scapegoat to the irrational forces in the Ministry of Magic, the perfect foil to the question of apportioning blame. He was very nearly rounded up with the stragglers left abandoned once Riddle and his more ferocious followers were all left dead and dying on the lawn in front of the main entrance. The only thing that stopped his immediate removal from the school under a heavy escort was the more pressing concern of how to treat the injured and catalogue the deceased for family collection. Severus worked tirelessly for over fifteen hours until the Medi-witches and others from St. Mungo's arrived to help.

It was well in Severus' favour to have been seen gently laying Minerva, Miss Granger, Harry and Ronald Weasley on the grass before he went off to find Poppy Pomfrey and begin to help in the most basic of ways. Once triage had been instituted, Severus then worked his way around with Poppy and me, all of us assessing injuries and ensuring that those most seriously injured were attended to first. I had not realised the number of those injured and deceased in the devastation wrought, as I had stayed back with the final group of students deemed to have the least advanced abilities.

What a horrible day that was. And yet Severus, the hated teacher, reviled by most, if not all of the students, worked steadily, and pushed himself to his limits to ensure that he didn't miss anyone who might benefit from some potion or healing charm. He held students' hands and talked to them softly as they exited this life, and not once did I see him raise his voice even when Miss Parkinson called him traitor to his face and refused to look at him or take any of the proffered potions that would have saved her life. Bravado, stupid blind bravado; and by the time the silly girl had changed her mind and decided that living was to be clutched with both hands, it was too late and the damage too extensive to repair.

Severus said nothing then, nor to my knowledge to anyone since, but I could tell that of all the students he had seen die that day, that one cut the most deeply, coming as it did towards the end of such a horrible day.

Though he would most likely deny it, Severus also took pains to regularly check Minerva and Miss Granger, as well as Ron and Harry to see if they had awakened or exhibited any symptoms that could be remedied with either a charm or a potion from his personal supplies. All four of them resisted any and all attempts to revive them, though both Harry and Ron did wake the next morning, sore and bruised but otherwise none the worse for wear. It took Minerva six days to awaken and she could shed no light on what had happened, other than the similar tales of a blinding light that seemed to emanate from Severus and an extremely strong headache as a result of that same light.

Severus was questioned time and again by the buffoons at the Ministry, all of them hoping for a tidbit to slip that would firmly incriminate him as a likely candidate for an extended stay in Azkaban. I tried as hard as I could to prevent the interrogations, but Cornelius and his more fanatical supporters were looking to tidy everything up with a neat little bow. They simply could not or would not understand that those whom they should have been interrogating were all dead or so damaged that to try them would be to perpetrate yet more injustice. Cornelius most of all was driven by guilt mingled with a healthy dose of fear for his prized position in the Magical world. He stalled any reinforcements that might have aided in the fight by clinging to the irrational belief that all around him were seeking the cover of darkness to depose him.

I had more than a few words on that matter alone to say to the stupid fool!

Severus was eventually cleared of any misbehaviour by the simple expediency of drawing back the sleeve of his shirt and exposing the gnarled, reddened and inflamed word burnt magically into his skin. His betrayal and subsequent discovery was in many ways Severus' ultimate redemption, proving to all beyond doubt just which side he had been fighting for all these years. I had never thought I'd be grateful for Riddle's inability to not show off his magical prowess as I was with the obvious evidence on Severus' forearm.

I suppose in one way I should have been grateful that all of this occurred whilst my dear Minerva was still unconscious. I dread the thought of what havoc she might have caused to Fudge's sycophants had she been aware of their all too blatant stupidity. It took her six days to awaken as I've already written, but when she did wake up, she had very little recollection of the events surrounding the battle as a whole. She told me that it was as though she could only remember salient points in a scattered fashion, but not any particular details. She did say that she was sure she'd come across Draco on the battlefield, but as to what had happened to him she had no idea whatsoever.

And so I had to be the one to tell her...

I tried as hard as I could to collect her memories in our personal Pensieve, but she could not or would not give over the memories I needed to show her. In truth, I wanted the easier way out – where I could have just held her close as she relived what remained buried so deeply in her psyche. I thought it would also have made it easier for her to understand the true catastrophe of the battle. Even when I had conceded defeat and left those few scant horrifying memories buried so deeply that they could not be extracted, I was still left with the spectre of having to tell her what I'd seen from my vantage area near the front doors to the castle.

I don't even want to write it down now. It's almost as though it's an aberration of my own memory, and yet I do know full well that it did indeed happen as I recounted to my darling Minerva. She didn't believe me at first, of that I have no doubt. I'm sure in some way the very fact that she had no recollection to it whatsoever meant that it had not occurred and I was mistaken in what I'd seen. Oh, how I wish that had been true.

It makes me still so angry at Tom Riddle even now. He forced me to bluntly tell the woman I've loved for so many years that her grandson, whom she never really got the chance to know as his own person, was dead, and that she had been seen cradling him in her arms not long after she took up her defensive position with Severus, Harry, Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger and those few others deemed to have advanced enough wand skills to survive with so many targets around them.

I honestly don't know who fired off the curse that felled him, but I do know that there was a great deal of blood involved. From my vantage point I could see the pool in which he was lying rapidly spreading, sinking slowly through the grass until there seemed no possible way that such a flow could continue. I do know that Draco had been advancing steadily towards Miss Granger, and he was only cursed a scant few paces from her side. I had no way to warn any of them without diverting attention to the students I was protecting near the front steps, but all too soon I looked towards Severus and the others only to realise that Minerva was no longer with them.

And then I saw her as I turned my gaze, searching for her in the flurry of activity all around me. She was on her knees with a look of abject shock and grief painted on her face. No tears, but just simply too shocked to comprehend the tragedy in front of her eyes.

I so wanted to abandon my position at that very moment and console her as best I could. I couldn't leave without attracting a lot of unwanted attention and so I was forced to listen to the whispers of the students around me, mostly Hufflepuffs, but also a few Ravenclaws as they struggled to understand how their staunchly Gryffindor Professor could show such grief over someone who had no doubt made many of their lives hell during their schooldays. I tried to get them all to concentrate and leave their speculation until such time as no one was potentially pointing a wand at their throat.

I only wish I could have followed my own advice, but due to good luck rather than good counsel none of our paltry group was injured...physically at least.

Minerva still doesn't believe me, Arcanus. At an elemental level, she thinks it's all some cruel jibe, because, as she said herself, once I'd shown her my recollections, that as she had no memory, it could surely not have happened. Deep down though, I know she understands the truth, but knowing and believing are poles apart in this instance and I have no idea how to help her resolve...everything.

She began to visit Miss Granger in the Infirmary and later in her parents' home not long after she woke up. We lost a closeness that both of us are yet to reconcile completely. That's why I've been so long in coming back to you, old friend.

I still don't know how to begin to confide in you how utterly bereft and lost I feel, and so it was easier initially to avoid any sage advice you might have heaped upon me.

**All constructive criticism, comments and reviews are most welcome!**


	5. Severus II

**DISCLAIMER:**This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author Note: **Manythanks to the wonderful, Niamh for betaing this so quickly for me. Also, many thanks to Shiv5468 for all her answers to my questions – as they all relate to this second part of the story. :)

**Severus II**

_About five o'clock in the evening..._

This time tomorrow I shall be sitting in the Leaky Cauldron planning the final arrangements I need to make in order to start living my own life. I'm excited and nervous all in one breath, but I wouldn't swap either sentiment for anything else. I became aware that the Headmaster was indeed back in the castle thanks in no small part to a small alert I had placed on the Gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office. He seemed to have timed his arrival to the end of the Potions N.E.W.T, no doubt assured that I would be busy all afternoon correcting simple mistakes that the same students have continued to make year after year.

Albus isn't pleased with me, though of course he didn't say so as such. He thinks I'm running away from my life here and that I will at some stage shortly realise it. I, of course, told him to bugger off and stop trying to run my life. I also twisted the knife a little further...closer to the heart of the matter by reminding him that I had always done as he requested and that I deserved the chance to have a life of my own. Then, almost as an afterthought, I placed my resignation on the corner of his desk and exited his office without saying another word.

And now the old devil has made me feel guilty...like a Muggle penitent forced to cut short a pilgrimage of dubious origin and face the unpalatable truth that it was a wasted endeavour.

I have no life skills other than teaching and Potions brewing. I know I don't have any other skills. That's why it's time for me to leave and make my own way in the greater world. It was my promise to myself that if I survived Riddle and his compatriots that I would never again shrink from doing something that I wanted to do, no matter how irrational it sounded to others who think they know me well.

After I'd left his office in a foul mood, I went to have a late lunch with Minerva. She, though I've little doubt she would find it hard to believe, has always made me feel better. She talks the problem out in such a way that I usually feel better after her single malt induced banter. We've similar temperaments in a lot of ways. Both of us are quick to anger and find fault, but Minerva has had the benefit of Albus quieting her innate fury, whereas my fury and sense of injustice was merely honed into a tool.

I sound bitter and I am in a roundabout way, but more than that I can see my life slipping past me and I have no real desire to be the longest serving teacher in this school. My reasons for a monastic like seclusion ended the moment Potter eliminated that foul misrepresentation of magic, and I want the chance to do something that I want to do.

I'm whining like a Hufflepuff instead of just getting on with it and finishing my packing, but Minerva wasn't in her office or rooms and I still felt gutted by the realisation that Albus prefers to keep me tethered to him like a faithful puppy, rather than a sentient man who is simply tired of living the same existence day in and day out.

I must say, though, that I'm rather looking forward to the Leaving Feast this evening. I had not thought I would find such simple pleasure in the sure to be stunned students when they realise that their most hated and ridiculed teacher will be decamping with them. Perhaps I could really have fun with the whole situation by letting them all know I shall be leaving on the Hogwarts Express for London and that the little miscreants will not be able to get up to their usual mischief?

They need not know that I will have long since Apparated to London, but still it would be well worth the trouble to take the more tedious exit and ensure I remain foremost in their thoughts for the last eight hours of their academic year.

Once I'd assured myself that Minerva was not in the castle proper or on the grounds, I felt the need to just escape for the last few hours. I felt that the examination papers could wait just a little while and I can finish my final tallying of the scores after dinner. I will miss Hogwarts, of that I have no doubt, but I also know that I've been here far too long and even should I return at some stage, it will be on my terms and not because I have failed in this new adventure. So I made my way swiftly to the gates and past your wards, Arcanus. I Apparated to London and having visited Gringotts briefly, I then left the Leaky Cauldron for Muggle London and started looking for a new home. It didn't matter particularly where I found an apartment, but I still wanted to be close to Diagon Alley in case I ever have the need to seek sanctuary at some potentially low ebb in this new life I shall be carving out for myself.

That makes me sound like a coward, but I am as always a realist and should I find it all too much, at least I would like the luxury of being able to meld back into the familiarity of my own kind, whatever that trite sentiment expresses. I hope that this won't happen, for I can already hear Albus' admonition that he was right and I was wrong. I will give no one the satisfaction of knowing if such an eventuality arrives. As to how I will achieve that, I've no idea, but it's a hypothetical bridge to cross at some unknown point in the future.

I found a light airy apartment this afternoon, almost by chance. I was starting to get tired and aware that I had to back in time for the Leaving Feast or I wouldn't have the pleasure of watching the little buggers choke on their roast beef when news of my departure was announced. The landlady looked askance at me when I asked her inadvertently where I might find the estate agent managing the property. She eyed me warily and I will have to remember that look, for it was one that would have instantly had the most hardened of students confessing their misdemeanours. Anyway, I digress. She asked me why I wanted to know and I. at my most polite given the stupidity of the question, told her that I was looking for an apartment to rent. So she took me up the two flights of stairs, all the while twittering in my ear that I'd find none better so close to 'town', and that there was central heating already installed and double glazing on all the windows.

The view is not so spectacular, but she did assure me that on a clear day I had a view that would never be 'built out'...whatever that means? I enquired on the price and how I might go about occupying her apartment, and just how much I was likely to pay for all the positives she'd listed. Once we'd fixed upon a price, including something called a bond, she said I really didn't need to go near the estate agent, but that she would need references before we could sign the rental agreement.

I really had no idea Muggles could be so anal about mere bricks and mortar. I excused myself pleading the need to use the bathroom and whilst I was 'occupied', I searched my pockets for some suitable paper...for my referees. A lemon sherbet wrapper and a scrap of parchment hastily pushed into my pocket so that I could note down addresses sufficed, and I soon had a recommendation of my character from one Albus Dumbledore and one Minerva McGonagall.

I shall have to remember to tell the pair of them just in case I have picked the only untrained Muggleborn in the whole of Muggle London who can see through my deception. The Muggle police would be easy enough to fool, but I really do not need Aurors on my doorstep charging me with some little known crime of, well, I'm not sure what they'd charge me with, but I know that there would be more than a few of my ex-students who would make sure to be particularly nasty about it all.

With our business concluded, I asked Nancy; the landlady, if I could move in the next day. She thought that a bit soon as I would need to arrange to have the gas, electricity and phone connected or the place would be a '_touch chilly_.' So I asked her if I could move in a few of my belongings over the next week until all the necessary services were connected. She assured me that would be fine and that _'I looked like a nice sensible chap who wouldn't trash the place like her last tenant.'_

I'm still trying to work out what on earth she was saying half the time, but it seemed positive and I stopped in at the Leaky Cauldron on my way back here to secure a room for the next few days. The last thing I needed was a nosy Muggle wondering just how I managed to get all of my furniture and other belongings into a Muggle apartment on a Saturday morning without any obvious help.

But for the fact that the Leaving Feast starts in a little over an hour, I would plead off and have a quiet dinner in my rooms. The scholastic prizes hold little sway for the seventh years on this their last night of school, but there are the all important decisions regarding the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup to be decided, and I would like to know if someone has managed to wrest the crown from Gryffindor.

I'd best go and get ready for the dinner and I've no doubt Albus will leave the announcement of my departure until the very last moment. He knows me altogether too well!

**All constructive criticism, comments and reviews are most welcome!**


	6. Hermione II

**DISCLAIMER:**This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author Note: **Many thanks to the wonderful, Niamh for betaing this so quickly for me.

**Hermione II**

_About 10 o'clock in the evening..._

I should imagine Minerva is busy trying to quiet down Gryffindor Tower right about now. Excited students all getting ready to leave on the Hogwarts Express in the morning and the parties and chatter of the seventh years beforehand as they try to reminisce in the short time left to do so as students. I can only imagine what it would have been like, because at this time last year, I was unconscious and according to Minerva no one was sure if I'd survive, particularly as I was unconscious for so long. No one knew what was wrong with either of us at the time, as both of us had only a few scratches and curse burns to show for the battle itself. No potion, charm or remedy worked for either of us and Professor Dumbledore told me later that Professor Snape had kept coming back to check on the pair of us often. That was a surprise, but then I suppose he wanted to make sure that I didn't inadvertently blurt out something of his own trauma if I had chosen to speak or wake up suddenly.

It really is sobering to think that I might never have woken up, not that I would have realised it, of course, but there you go.

Minerva and I talked about that day when we went for our usual weekly lunch today. She Apparated into my living room just after she'd shooed the last student out of her classroom after the Transfiguration exam. We wandered off; after I'd made sure she'd pass as a Muggle, to a lovely little café near my home. It's directly opposite a park that my parents used to take me to as a child. So many childhood memories wrapped up in those swings, slippery dips and my favourite see-saw, all of them unchanged in my ever changing world. I had to walk the long way to the shops for quite a while after I woke up because I couldn't walk past the park without crying. All those memories of happy times, of laughter and scrapes, tears and hugs were too much to bear, so I avoided the park as though it didn't exist. It wasn't until I was tired one afternoon that I forgot about my resolution to avoid the area, and I walked straight past it, almost without thinking. I'm sure the children playing wondered what the silly woman sitting on the park bench was crying for and why she kept looking up to see the laughter and squeals of children with no cares in the world other than the dings and scrapes if they pushed themselves too far.

I didn't avoid the park after that, in fact I made sure I picked a coffee up from the café, if I was out and about, and went and sat on my park bench to watch the children enjoying themselves no matter how atrocious the weather. Oh, I'd remember happier times, Arcanus, but it was therapeutic in an odd sort of a way to just sit and watch the world go by, all the while thinking about the time when my greatest fear was falling off the see-saw or going too high on the swing. I have a lot of fond memories in that park and I'm so glad I've discovered it again.

Anyway, as Minerva and I walked to the café I filled her in on my association to it and my neighbourhood in general. She was interested to see how Muggleborn children lived prior to receiving their letter and the differences weren't as great as I had always imagined them. Oh, there was the obvious difference that for pureblood children magic was something inherent in them, not secretive or strange, but all in all, we all had fairly similar childhoods – and it was a surprise. We've talked about all sorts of things in this last year, but today was the first time we'd both really opened up and just talked about all of it. Thank goodness the café was fairly deserted and we could sit right near the kerb with a clear view of the verdant greenery in the park directly opposite us.

We talked around the issues foremost in both our minds for quite a while, until we'd ordered our coffee and a cheese platter just to nibble from for however long it took us to decide that an armchair and privacy was more conducive to our chatter. Minerva wanted to stay for dinner that night and had it not been the Leaving Feast we may well have had dinner at that same café. As it was, the waitress left us alone more or less, as if sensing that we had important things to talk about. Minerva had wanted to cast a privacy charm, but we both decided that if our talk turned to such a degree we'd just go home and continue to talk there. Neither of us, with our shared history, really wanted to practice any subterfuge for what turned out to be a remarkably frank conversation with more than a few tears from both of us. That was later in the afternoon when we decided to walk home and sit comfortably together on the lounge.

I'm waffling again, trying to find a good way to start it all, but do you know, Arcanus, I don't think I can ever recall Minerva having cried before...well, other than her obvious anguish as she cradled Draco, of course.

I know everything now. In fact, I've known all about Minerva's past for a while now, but it didn't seem to make any sense, and so I suppose I just ignored it and concentrated on those things that really just mattered to me. I was so shocked to see her break away from our group in the middle of the fighting to go over and drop to her knees next to Draco Malfoy. The pain and anguish on her face was horrifying, when so much of that day was an appalling waste of life. I couldn't watch for too long, but I was so shocked that I was grateful no one was advancing on me at the time. Malfoy bleeding into the lawn though is an image I will never lose, but to find out later about his apparent stealth towards me at the time he was cursed was frightening. It still makes me shudder even now with the realisation that had he succeeded I might not have survived.

It wasn't until I woke up...and even then it took several weeks for some of Minerva's history to become known to me. I just couldn't understand why she kept apologising for the sins of the Malfoys, father and son. You see, it seems I'd forgotten Lucius Malfoy's angry ranting, even though Minerva reminded me that she'd already shown me the evidence of it all, as well as told me the back-story to the whole thing. After today, I remember it all as though it happened only yesterday instead of a year ago. Prior to today, I still held to the belief that it was an aberration on my memory and not the truth. It's silly, really, what the mind will try and convince itself to believe when the truth is actually more shocking. I knew that Minerva had been married previously and that she'd had a child whom she'd abandoned after her first husband died. I was appalled to think she could leave a child behind, but then she explained just how it had all come about and then gave me more background to the _'whole sordid mess'_ as she put it this afternoon. I still don't know if she's still ashamed of her past, or indeed, why she kept such a tight rein on it all, but after today we're both a great deal closer than I think either of us thought was possible.

It's almost like me trying to recount and prise my memories of the battle out, as Minerva had to do with her Pensieve. It's that same surreal sensation of knowing that something momentous is happening, but missing the ability to grasp the enormity of it all until afterwards. Minerva had brought a wizarding photograph with her today and I'd never seen a picture of her so young...my age just about. She told me she'd kept it to remind herself of happier times, and also as a lesson to look below the surface thereafter. It's almost as though she has tried to distance herself from the past in such a way that the fight brought it all painfully to the surface again. She told me she'd tried to bury it all again, but like most secrets, its time of reckoning had arrived and she knew intimately that she had to deal with it all or go mad ignoring it to the detriment of her relationship with Professor Dumbledore...Albus.

That revelation was a surprise as well, but I sort of twigged that they were more than just friends and colleagues when she kept mentioning him by name, particularly if he had annoyed her enough that it cropped up as a general query about school and what everyone was doing. It's strange in a way, but it seems that the school just keeps running and although the houses seem to be a bit more friendly, there is still that odd reticence in the houses. Well, that's the sense I get from Minerva at any rate, but I daresay you might have another idea about it all, Arcanus?

I didn't think you'd answer me, but it would have been nice to know that you could 'talk' to me if I really needed a confidante of sorts. I suppose me rambling on doesn't really count, and so I suppose I'll have to wait.

Minerva also asked me why I never seemed to talk about Harry or Ron any more, almost as though they had ceased to exist. I suppose they have in a roundabout sort of way. Oh, we've always had the normal chats about what Harry and Ron are up to, but none of us kept in touch much after I woke up. They came over once or twice, but then I heard Harry had signed a contract with a Quidditch team in Wales and Ron was working with his father at the Ministry. I haven't heard from either of them for months now, but I know I'll still get the odd owl for a while and then nothing. I guess we all grew up and realised that the only thing we all actually had in common was that we went to school together and we all banded together to save our world from a dark wizard. Our lives now are different enough that we seem to have just spiralled away from each other and I really am happy to potter around at home.

After I'd sat my delayed N.E.W.T.S at the Ministry a few months ago, I then had all the mess of tidying up the dental clinic and my parents' will. After I'd put the business up for sale and then paid all the taxes that the vultures had surfaced to claim, I discovered I had enough left so that I didn't have to work for a while, but I'd still like the security of knowing that some of it is there when I need it.

Minerva has offered to help me with money more than once, but it really didn't seem right when I could just go out and work myself. So I let her know today, before we came home in the afternoon, that I'm starting a new job on Monday in one of the bistros attached to a pub close to home. She wasn't at all impressed with the idea and tried more than once during the afternoon to dissuade me with all sorts of nonsense about public houses and the sorts of people who work there. If she hadn't been quite so serious about my virtue, it would have been laughable. I think Minerva is convinced that I'll be working somewhere like the Leaky Cauldron or the Hogs Head, with their dank, musty interiors, not in a modern bistro with air and lighting and decent working conditions. She seemed a little more placated when I told her that it was a family run business and that I could Apparate home from the back office as it had a door that led out to the alleyway behind the hotel. I didn't tell her it was a pub because hotel sounds more civilised – at least to her way of thinking at any rate.

I'm looking forward to lunch next week, though now with school holidays, I wouldn't put it past Minerva to drop in unexpectedly before Friday rolls around...just to make sure I'm alright and I haven't been kidnapped by some lecherous old Muggle.

**All constructive criticism, comments and reviews are most welcome!**


	7. Minerva II

**DISCLAIMER:**This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author Note: **Many thanks to the wonderful, Niamh for betaing this so quickly for me.

**Minerva II**

_About nine o'clock in the evening..._

Hermione and I met up for our usual Friday lunch today. It was wonderful just to escape the madness of the school for a scant few hours, even given our eventual conversation. I was glad to get away from the noise of the seventh years all chattering at once as they try to cram in a few more memories to remember each other by when they lose contact. It's invariable, really. They all do it to a degree, though none of them would admit to that possibility at this moment. It's such a change from this time last year when Albus told me that the only activity was reserved for the harried expressions of the Aurors and others cataloguing the deceased, and the parents of those injured or missing trying to find out any tidbit of information. It's a flippant thing to say, but I'm rather glad I was out of it all...literally and therefore not conscious to the grief and stress around me.

I would have had to remember far more about that day than I would have cared to force upon myself.

Albus and I have only just started to piece things together and patch our relationship up in a tentative way. It's almost as though we've had to begin to know each other all over again. We've yet to fully become intimate with each other again. We dance around the edges of it...often, but, well, it's hard to just up and try and carry on after everything that's happened in the last year. It was made all the harder by Albus' insistence that I had to 'deal' with the battle and stop running from my past. That was easy enough for him to say, but it was much harder to actually try to rationalise the whole thing myself. I have worked it all out to a degree; worked it all out, nutted out my fault in the whole thing and rather than my usual avoidance tactics, I have begun to tell my secrets to someone other than Albus or Severus.

Hermione knows it all absolutely now and she said herself that she couldn't understand why I kept apologising for both Lucius and Draco until very recently. She asked me about my reaction to Draco's death during the fighting again at lunch and I suppose it all just tumbled out after that. I had to remind her that she already knew a lot of my past, but it seems that she'd forgotten some of the salient points. We both shed more than a few tears this afternoon, once we'd returned to her home, and I'm bone weary because of it. Strangely enough though, I also feel relieved to finally tell my story and I am more than grateful for Hermione's maturity that she didn't seem quite as appalled as I'd imagined she would be once the whole truth was out. I know I had told her not long after she awoke last year that I had been married previously to a Malfoy, but the shock she tried to hide at my confession that I'd left my child with his father's family was palpable. If I'm honest with myself, I just left the rest to simmer for a better time...or no time if it had come to that.

I've held onto that secret for so long that it was almost as though it was an imaginary tale. It wasn't my imagination, though, but there is a part of me I have kept hidden for almost half my adult life. I suppose in a way that's partly why it was so hard to confide in Albus as he tried to tease the memories of the battle from me. He would have forced me to deal with it before I was ready to confront my past mistakes and our relationship would have been destroyed with it all. I never wanted that to happen, but with my solitude and lack of trust these last few months, I seem to have almost accomplished the feat I so assiduously tried to avoid. It's testament to his general character and the fact that he loves me as much as I love him that we've managed, at least in spurts, to start to clear the air.

There is much more to do to bring us full circle to the trust we had in each other prior to my reticence to share my knowing absolutely that both Draco and Lucius had died on the Hogwarts lawn in that horrible battle. Albus' Pensieve memories gave me the bare bones of my reaction that day, but it wasn't until a scant few months ago when I was reviewing our Pensieve that the rest of the jumble righted itself and all of it came tumbling out as my memory cleared. I remembered all of it then as though it was happening all over again. What Albus doesn't know, and what I tried to tell him a few times after I had realised my memories had returned, was that Draco actually spoke to me as I cradled him in my arms. It was only one word, guttural and hard to understand, but it was then that I understood that he knew absolutely who I was. He called me 'gran' and I could see his right hand reaching out to me. I'd like to think he wanted some connection, just a touch that wasn't laced with pain, but I'm not sure exactly why he tried to reach out. He died before his hand ever made contact with my face and I was too grief stricken and shocked to do anything more than hug him to me tightly in what little window of time I had before I realised my danger in the distraction and went back to Severus and the group of students surrounding Harry Potter.

Hermione and I talked it all out this afternoon. She'd finally finished with the solicitors a few days ago and all the death taxes and such like had already been released following the sale of her parents' business. We had a good old fashioned cry, the pair of us, sitting on her big lounge with a rapidly dwindling supply of tissues. Hermione had let me say my piece, as I watched to see for any signs of revulsion that I assumed would come as Draco had been most strident in his hatred of any Muggleborns, but more particularly focused on Hermione.

When she queried me some more about that day, I told her that Albus, from his position near the front steps, had told me that Draco had been seen advancing on her and that he was cursed a scant few feet from reaching her. Hermione had no idea, of that I was absolutely certain, and the realisation that she was seconds from whatever mischief Draco had planned for her started the tears for both of us in earnest. I apologised again then for my part in all of it, but Hermione wouldn't hear of _'such bloody stupid nonsense'_ as she called it. Then she asked me the oddest thing. She asked me when I was going to forgive myself for my mistake, a mistake I needed to get rid of or I'd never be able to move on. I sat on the lounge stunned at her insight and she was awfully quiet for a while, as though she had thought she'd overstepped the bounds of our friendship. She hadn't; and rather than tell her as such I drew her to me and hugged her tightly. Then we both started crying again, but they were in many ways cleansing tears rather than painful ones.

I would have loved to stay with her for a lazy dinner, but I knew I had to be back in time for the Leaving Feast. Mind you, had I realised the drama of the whole thing I might just have dragged Hermione back with me – for the entertainment potential if nothing else.

Oh, that sounds like Albus now, so I'll finish this when I can, but it was certainly a Leaving Feast unlike any other I've ever seen, and that includes the delayed feast abandoned last year.

_About eleven o'clock in the evening..._

I've just had the most horrid time trying to stop Albus from going after Severus. I finally succeeded by pointing out, none too subtly, that if he, Albus, went after Severus, it would make it all the harder if things didn't go according to the Slytherin plan and the poor man's pride stopped him from coming home. I knew I'd reasoned it well enough when Albus merely sighed and then wandered back to our rooms with nary a word to show he'd understood just what lack of faith such an endeavour would have showed.

So now he's off brooding heaven knows where, but at least I trust him enough not to have hared off to London once he'd assured me that he wouldn't. He knows that if I found out about it, there would be one of those fights he tries his upmost to avoid.

That's the thing about Albus, Arcanus. Once you know exactly which strings to pull, he just follows along. Oh, he doesn't like it in the least, but if he doesn't want to completely alienate Severus, he'll leave well enough alone...for now. It does of course beg the question as to exactly what Severus was thinking about to just up and leave like that. I've no doubt he had some plan or other in his mind for some considerable time, but I am awfully curious to know what he's doing right now. If I were being particularly sneaky, I'd ask one of the house elves to keep an eye on him. The only thing stopping me is that if Severus ever found out, he'd be livid at the presumed lack of trust and the thought that we didn't think he'd cope in the outside Muggle world.

The Leaving Feast was a minefield of emotions, all swirling around waiting for just the right spot to alight on, but then again perhaps it was more the drama of the announcement that caught everyone, myself included, by surprise. The look from Severus to Albus when all the preliminary announcements had been made for the end of the school year at the beginning of the feast was quite something. Expectation laced with a healthy amount of irritation, and it's to Albus' credit that he didn't just allow Severus the floor to make the announcement himself. When Albus did finally announce the resignation of the Potions Master in that lull between mains and dessert, you could have heard a pin drop in the place – such was the shock factor.

I looked across at Severus just after the announcement, and a quick visual skim of the tables. Some students seemed so surprised that I wasn't altogether sure that some spell wasn't holding most of them frozen in their places. Random hands caught suspended in mid air as they reached for the serving tongs or some tasty cake in front of them, nary a whisper or any real sign that something quite ordinary had actually happened. But, of course, it wasn't an everyday occurrence to see a teacher who had spent the greater part of his adult life as a teacher just up and leave. The whispers and looks didn't actually start for what seemed an eternity, but could not have been more than a few minutes after the announcement.

Then the whispers started, followed by a more normal level of noise as the shock gradually wore off the assembled students. If it hadn't been such a surprise, I might just have been all the more amused by the comedy of it. I do hope though that he keeps safe and once he's wearied of the Muggle world, he finds himself back with us. But then, if he does find some attraction in his new life, Hogwarts will have lost a dedicated teacher and one who has never had a fatality in his classroom, which is more than can be said for some of his predecessors.

We all gathered in the fifth floor staffroom after the students had been let loose to create mayhem on their last night of school to have our own farewell for Severus, but the sneaky sod had already up and left the castle. When I next see him, I intend to have more than a few words about his lack of manners in that regard alone!

**All constructive criticism, comments and reviews are most welcome!**


	8. Albus II

**DISCLAIMER:**This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author Note:** This chapter is b unbetaed /b , so my apologies in advance for any mistakes that may well be apparent as you read the chapter. My thanks to both**Niamh **(who has yet to see this chapter) and**Shiv5468**without whom I could not have continued on with this story - and made it (hopefully) plausible. Niamh, for her support, and Shiv for her suffering my endless questions about prices and such like for Severus' activities in this second part of the story.

I have no idea if this has any spoilers in it, but it'd be rather nice if it did. Perhaps, it's best to suggest that it may now well be regarded as AU, and that I will shortly be screwed by the new canon in HBP!

**Albus II**

_About two o'clock in the afternoon..._

Severus is absolutely impossible to deal with once he's made his mind up about something. In fact, I might even go so far as to say he is even worse now than he ever was when he knew he was right about something. All I had to deal with then was a smirk, not a belligerent overgrown child determined to do anything other than something that commonsense tells me is a completely ridiculous notion. He even had the temerity to suggest I had kept him tethered to me like a 'faithful puppy'. That opinion is so appalling that I'm not even sure how to start to go about redressing that misconception...if indeed I even can.

Stupid, impossible man that he is, I'm sure Severus will have contingency plans, but how it galls me to think that in a few short hours he will leave Hogwarts for the Muggle world. Of all the insane ideas I've heard throughout my life, Severus Snape volunteering to live a Muggle life would have been cause for more merriment than serious jostling on the betting tally sheet. I just dread to think what will happen once he finds the Muggle world less to his liking than the rose coloured glasses he currently has glued to his face.

Life isn't simple. Life is never ever simple, no matter how I or others would wish it were so.

_Just before midnight..._

I've experienced just about every emotion tonight. Anger, despair, worry and now I've just come inside after sitting on the steps at the main entrance.

I still can't believe that Severus is actually gone. I don't think I could feel any more adrift if he had died, rather than the more crafty and secretive exit from the castle a mere three hours ago. Of all those whom I've known in my long life, all I could think about from my perch on the steps was the chilling beauty of the full moon carpeting the grounds in front of me. It's a trite bit of whimsy to imagine that same moon lighting Severus' path to the school boundary and it leaves me quite unsettled at his haste to leave on a night that would have normally seen him do almost anything other than set foot outside your protective wards.

I thought of Remus, as he is the one person who has continued to seek acceptance in our world. He is an outsider – an untouchable and an unpalatable reality to many. II were not such a night, I would wonder how a man could throw off his heritage willingly when others try with all their might to fight one of the oldest prejudices in our world. Remus has always had to i 'make do' /i , biding his time for some small sliver of opportunity, only to watch as fear pervades and extinguishes the hope that some small advancement in knowledge and acceptance might just be forthcoming. A cruel blow all in all.

I left my spot on the steps not long after that rambling bit of introspection, but the only emotions I can feel now, are weariness and worry.

Oh, don't get me wrong, Arcanus. I could cheerfully ring Severus' neck at the moment, but I shall save that treat for my dear Minerva. I don't think Severus knows just how much he annoyed those, who in their own quiet ways, have always considered him a friend of sorts, particularly with everything he's had to deal with all these years. That won't stop Minerva hexing him first and asking questions later of course, but oh, to be a fly on the wall when it happens. I'd like to think the merriment of that eventuality might lift me out of my melancholy, but it hasn't.

I simply don't know why he's done it! To just up and leave, with no consideration that others might like some time to talk with him, reassure themselves and surreptitiously ask some pointed questions about his plans for the future. I don't even know how he's going to support himself in the Muggle world and he can hardly open an apothecary and sell his usual stock, can he?

Oh, don't bother, Arcanus. It's a silly question and I know full well you're just going to let me ramble on until I come to some solution or simply set this mess aside for another time.

I have to go and find Minerva now. She looked as though she'd been crying earlier when she came back from her excursion to see Hermione. She never could hide her puffy eyes and the telltale red patch she always gets just under her nose. She did at least have the wherewithal to stop me haring after Severus, but I still wish I could find some way to track his movements. The only real problem is that if Severus ever found out about that breach of trust, he'd never forgive me and never come home if he tired of this nonsense.

I don't think I can stand the thought of more tears and guilt from Minerva, but I'd best go and see if she's still up. If worst comes to worst, I may just avail myself of the empty rooms near the Slytherin common room tonight. Yes, I'd be hiding out; running from more upsetting developments, but Minerva knows me well enough to leave me alone if I get like that.

_Really, Albus, have you forgotten so soon?_

No, you are right, old friend. The hurt I caused her such a short time ago still weighs on me, but I was so angry with you that I simply couldn't see anything other than my own turmoil. I don't really want to test her prowess with a wand tonight. She'd hex me first and then go after Severus, and though the second part of her plans is something I wouldn't miss for anything, it's the thought that I would have disappointed her again that I simply cannot abide.

_About eight o'clock in the morning..._

Well, I do feel better this morning and I know I should have 'talked' to you last night, but my goodness, what a night. All of the unresolved turmoil surrounding Severus' movements, the humour of the students' shocked into realising that Severus was actually leaving the school, and then a healthy dollop of hope regarding Minerva.

I had no idea that she'd progressed to the point of knowing absolutely that both Lucius and Draco were beyond her help, but she did have those sparkling blue eyes full of unshed tears when she told me that she would have just liked the chance to know why Draco was reaching forward. I couldn't burst her bubble and tell her that I felt that it wasn't the tender moment she has willed herself to believe. I simply nodded my head, held her hand gently and caressed it as she told me everything that had transpired during her very long luncheon with Miss Granger.

How it must have been hard for the pair of them to open themselves up so much. I almost wish I had been there to talk it all through with them, but I also know that the afternoon would not have been quite so productive with my presence. Sometimes, I feel as though I really don't know Minerva, or perhaps it is that I don't know myself, my limits...or my understanding of things. The school runs itself to a degree and after so many years with few hiccups to dismantle, other than those wrought by teenagers settling scores for whatever misdemeanour. It's much harder...well, I've always felt it was much harder to work out the nuances of my private life, my place in relationship to those around me.

I still don't know the answer to that bit of nonsense, but perhaps it is that I was never meant to know everything absolutely.

I think I need a day away as well to do something purely for myself. I've so much to say, but it's all a jumble at the moment and I know I'm rambling.

I'd best leave a message for Minerva, so she doesn't think I've headed into London to look for Severus after my previous promise not to do so. She's having a lie-in this morning and left the organisation of the students to Filius and Poppy.

I wonder just what I should do today?

**All constructive criticism, comments and reviews are most welcome!**

**This has been posted on July the 16th, 2005 at 0857 hrs, Australian Eastern Standard time. **


	9. A Chance Encounter

**DISCLAIMER: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author Note: **This chapter is presented to you unbetaed, simply because I wanted to get it up online this morning...before I get screwed by HBP and the new canon. I have been sick for the last month and writing has come a very poor last.

This chapter is for **Niamh** and **Shiv.** Niamh for her wonderful support over the last two years as this story slowly came together, and Shiv for putting up with my odd questions about all sorts of things pertaining to this chapter onwards.

For everyone who has been waiting for a spot of interaction – well, let's just say...it starts now!

**A Chance Encounter **

_Two and a half months later... _

Severus had enrolled in a few different short courses, with no real idea of what he wanted to do. He'd learnt fairly quickly that Muggles had an appreciation for documentation that would have given the goblins at Gringotts a run for their money. After having suitably arranged his own scant documents and created the others necessary for his current life, he found that he'd thoroughly enjoyed the idea of studying for no other reason than he wanted to do so. He'd explored his new neighbourhood in the last two months, but until recently he had found himself unable to leave the security of the magical world completely behind. Tom had listened intently to his scattered talk of the Muggle world, all the while not offering any real support other than an ear to listen to, as Severus had tried to make sense of a new, completely alien world. But it hadn't been enough in the end and Severus had learned gradually to spend less and less time at the Leaky Cauldron, due in part to Tom's hesitant advice that maybe...just maybe Hogwarts really was his home and that it might not be too late to get his job back. Severus hadn't been back to the Leaky Cauldron since that night a little over a month ago.

He had found a likeable Muggle pub called The Frog and Toad fairly close to the university campus a few scant weeks earlier, and it had become his 'local' as soon as he worked out that it was blissfully quiet, and that people left him alone so that he could just have his pint in peace before he Apparated home to his apartment. Tonight he'd decided to try their little restaurant; attached to the pub, figuring that it had to be infinitely better than his standard egg or baked beans on toast. No matter how much he convinced himself that this had been the right move for a multitude of reasons, the one thing he missed most was the sumptuous meals laid on by the house elves. However, when he considered that he'd be at present in the last mad dash down to the first of September, he also realised that his freedom was something that he wasn't ready to give up just yet for a hot roast or a decent sticky date pudding.

With a sigh he pushed open the heavy door wondering if perhaps he might just find something worthwhile on the menu. First things first though as he had waited all day for the chance to relax after trying to cram his mind full of dates and other matters as he sorted out his enrolment for the next series of courses that commenced at the beginning of September. The one advantage was that he didn't have to seriously consider looking for a job for at least a year. The greater percentage of his pay packets still sat quietly in his Gringotts vault gathering interest much to the disgust of the goblins. He'd rarely spent a significant portion of each month's pay, except for a splurge on the occasional book or potions ingredient that couldn't be argued onto the school ledger as a necessary addition to the potions curriculum. He wasn't a Slytherin for nothing.

Taking his regular stool, or what Severus now saw as his regular stool, he waited patiently as the bar looked as though it was vacant. Looking around, there were a few other patrons all nursing their beers and talking quietly at their tables. Grabbing a packet of crisps from the basket on the side, he opened them noisily and hoped the sound of a patron eating unpaid for crisps would be sufficient warning of his presence. Waving his wand needlessly to acquire his pint seemed crass and an action guaranteed to have the Misuse of Magic officials breathing down his neck rather too soon after the event. With the Ministry's appalling lack of timing, they'd be sure to arrive too soon for him to finish his ill gotten pint at any rate.

"Yes, sir, what can I get you?" came the disembodied female voice from under the counter.

"I'll have a pint of your house pale ale please," Severus replied without looking to the bar from his side-on position.

Finishing the last of his crisps, Severus wondered if he could get away without paying for them, when the same female voice politely enquired if he wanted to pay for the crisps at the same time. Dropping three one pound coins on the counter top, Severus gratefully wrapped his hand around his pint and took a long sip.

"Your change sir," came the voice just to the side of his left ear.

Severus remained sitting side-on to the bar and said tersely, "keep it."

"Why, thank you, Professor Snape. You are most generous."

For several long minutes the only sound above the dull buzz of conversations, was the sound of Severus Snape attempting not to choke on the rather large mouthful of beer that he'd just taken into his mouth. Once he'd regained sufficient control of his breathing, he turned then to the young woman to his left, scowled at her dressed in her 'black and whites' and tried to cool his temper sufficiently so that the first words out of his mouth did not involve copious amounts of swearing followed by a few judicious hexes.

_'On second thought, I might hex first and swear second'_, Severus thought to himself.

"Miss Granger, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"Actually, I've been working here since the start of June, so technically that's the question I should really be asking you," she replied, all the while trying to keep the smirk off her face.

"Be that as it may, I asked first and so I would be quite glad of an answer," Severus replied through gritted teeth.

"Well, professor, I usually work in the restaurant, but the usual barmaid is off sick so they asked me if I could fill in before dinner. After a crash course of learning to pull a beer in about ten minutes, Barney set me loose on the customers."

"Good old Barney," Snape replied, sarcasm dripping from his words.

"Yes, it was, wasn't it? To think, I've been wondering for the last couple of months how I'd get the chance to say hello to you...and whether or not you'd remember me."

"How could I possibly forget the student fated to annoy me constantly for seven straight years? You do realise, Miss Granger that there are Muggle criminals who get less time for more serious crimes than putting up with a little bi...witch who simply does not know when to shut up!"

"Ah, such fond memories, professor. I too recall Potions being the one class where you did everything short of hexing me to try and stop me wanting to learn. Why, I'd be awfully surprised if you hadn't managed it at least once or twice?"

"Too many witnesses," Severus mumbled to himself, taking another sip of his pint.

"True, but then I also remember a wizard writhing on the floor of that same classroom as Voldemort magically transformed the veins and arteries in his left arm into a single word. Forgive me, but I have the vaguest recollection that that was you? Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, professor?"

"Old news, Miss Granger and hardly a topic for Muggle ears," he said quietly all the while leaning slightly across the counter to try and intimidate the young woman in front of him. "I could of course find it necessary to use a Silencio to stop you twittering at me needlessly?"

"Perhaps so, but then I could just simply raise my voice slightly and back away from you a fraction and the three labourers at the table behind you would be here in an instant to see what sort of mischief you were causing to me," Hermione pointed out quietly.

"Threats, Miss Granger? How crass and unimaginative of you."

"Of course not, professor! Merely a reminder that I'm no longer your student, so intimidating me isn't going to get you terribly far. Suppose we start again and I'll try not to shock you into choking...deliberately?"

"You knew it was me asking for a pint?"

"Of course, professor. Your voice is one I am unlikely to forget for a very long time. At least not without a Pensieve and a judiciously applied Obliviate to help me."

"Was I really that bad to have scarred you so irreparably?"

"Yes and no. Yes because you were cruel, mean tempered and delighted in belittling those around you, and no, because I still remember the man who leapt in front of Professor McGonagall and myself once Lucius Malfoy had started to cast his Avada Kedavra at us." Hermione finished quietly, almost in a whisper and then walked quickly to the other end of the bar to serve another patron who'd just stepped up for a refill.

Severus watched her out of the corner of his eye, twisting his glass slowly on the counter with his left hand and trying to work out just how he'd managed to find himself in the same pub as one of his ex-students, a student who knew rather more about him than he would have preferred. Unconsciously, his right hand strayed to his left forearm, massaging the area where his treachery had been emblazoned. He didn't even realise he'd been quite so obvious about it until a quiet voice intruded on his thoughts.

"Does it still hurt, professor?"

"Not as such, Miss Granger, but then it also belongs to another lifetime, and it really is no concern of yours."

"True, but then as I've said, I was actually present when it was formed, so in some small way, I do have a right to ask about it."

"No, you don't. Yes, you were an unfortunate witness, but no more than that. You were not then, nor have you in the interim become my confidante, so your questions are galling to say the least."

"Alright, professor, suppose we start again? I'll tell you a bit about what I've been doing then and you can pretend to ignore me and then blame me for any resultant indigestion you suffer afterwards."

"If you must, Miss Granger, but I have no real interest so it could well be argued that you may as well save your breath for some unsuspecting sap who might be interested."

"My, you really are a charmer, professor. Minerva was quite right about you," Hermione added, all the while taking note of the fact that though her former Potions professor had said he was uninterested in the minutiae of her life since she'd left Hogwarts, he hadn't actually moved from his perch.

"And what tidbits could Minerva have possibly told you, Miss Granger?" Severus asked with an edge of irritation to his voice. He had no doubt that whatever illumination on his character Minerva McGonagall may have disclosed, he could in retrospect give some quite damning information about her in return.

"Oh, all sorts of things, professor. If you're very good, I may just tell you...after I've finished of course."

She was teasing him. The little witch had decided to up the ante and tease him, so the gloves were well and truly off in this instance. He knew he should just drain his pint and leave, but she had piqued his curiosity far more than he was willing to let on.

"Your Gryffindor mentality or lack thereof is showing plainly. None of you ever seems to be able to understand that any details of your personal life are of little interest to anyone else. It's almost a pathological failing really, so if I must endure your boring little life, so be it," Severus added smoothly and at barely more than a whisper.

"Pathological failing? My, that's a big word, or have you been moonlighting with Muggle psychology perhaps? Should I take it to mean that your 'pathological failing' is that you haven't moved as yet, professor Snape? Could it be that you might just be more interested than you claim to be, or is it merely that you're wondering what on earth Minerva could have told me?" Hermione questioned him becoming more irritated by his arrogant dismissal.

"I am interested in nothing that two twittering females could possibly share with each other. I merely wish to finish my pint, have some dinner and then go home to my bed," Severus finished tiredly, reaching again for his beer.

"You know, professor, it really was a surprise to find out you'd actually left Hogwarts," Hermione said wistfully, ignoring the baited comment. "I never actually imagined that you would...leave that is. Minerva was upset that you hadn't even bothered to let her know where you were, or how you were going in the Muggle world. She misses you I think, not that she's said as much, but well, enough of that. I'll leave you in peace to finish your pint and perhaps I might see you in the dining room later?"

"Giving up so easily, Miss Granger? Perhaps Hufflepuff might have been the better choice of houses?" Severus arched an eyebrow, an almost signature sign that he had up until that point been quite enjoying their tentative exchange.

"Not at all, professor! Call it merely a tactical retreat if you will, or perhaps more correctly, a necessary move for me as I can see Barney out of the corner of my eye gesturing to the patrons already in the dining room. Do you know, I don't think I can ever recall anyone suggesting that I was a quitter in quite such polite terms before? There really is a first time for everything, professor and I'm looking forward to our next...debate."

"What makes you think they'll be a next time, Miss Granger?"

"What makes you think there won't be, professor? Besides which, once you try Olwyn's homemade puddings, then I may just have to take your half finished dish away from you to get your attention." Hermione finished with a teasing grin. She then nodded to Barney, quickly wiped down the counter in front of Severus, and then left the main bar for the dining room to Severus' right.

Severus watched her go, dressed neatly in a black skirt and white blouse, her hair tied back – he supposed to stop her adding something extra into the customers' meals. It really was a wonder that he'd managed to stumble into a Muggle pub employing this particular Muggleborn student...ex-student. If he had not believed her there before he had happened upon the hotel, he might just have wondered if Albus Dumbledore hadn't set the whole thing up as a way to keep an eye on him. He doubted Hermione Granger would have taken part in something like that simply for a chance to spy on her old teacher. And then she'd mentioned Minerva by name which seemed most surprising. Definitely something to follow-up at another time, but for now he was tired and hungry. It couldn't hurt to have dinner here, and besides that, leaving without eating meant that he would have lost an advantage to their 'chat' and he had no intention of doing that.

With a sigh, Severus drained the last of his beer, stood up and made his way towards the dining room to his immediate right. It might just prove to be an interesting evening after all, and the idea of homemade pudding sounded almost too good to be true.

**All constructive criticism, comments and reviews are most welcome!**

**To everyone who has taken the time to review either/both stories– a 1000 thanks to all of you for taking the chance on something a bit more unusual. There is more to come in this story, one that seems to have gained a life of its own. **

**I blame Arcanus...the showoff!**


	10. Under Duress

**DISCLAIMER:**This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author Note: **Manythanks to the wonderful, **Niamh** for betaing this so quickly for me. Also, kudos to **Shiv5468** for putting up with my inane Britpicking questions.

I hope this extra long chapter makes up for my lack of posting and that those of you who have been enjoying the story can now see why it's taken me so long to get it to this stage.

**Under Duress**

_Wednesday the 1st of September, 1999..._

The day had started so promisingly, Hermione thought wistfully. She'd managed to find all of the classes she'd enrolled in with a minimum of fuss, even accounting for the fact that some of the lecture rooms didn't have numbers or names on them to guide the lost. She'd had some interesting preliminary discussions, though she was well aware that seven years of a magical education had fairly firmly stunted her ability to follow some of the more subtle discussions in her media course. The politics course was just as bad. The morning had become steadily worse as soon as she arrived late for the introductory lecture for the crossover psychology – sociology subject that was a late addition to her course schedule. Without any real idea of what she wanted to do, Hermione had chosen a broad array of subjects that she could pare down to a more rigid course outline at some stage in the future. For now though, the idea of applying herself to some form of study seemed very appealing and a way to help her work out just where she truly belonged – the magical world or the Muggle world.

That was until she scanned the lecture theatre and nearly choked in shock to see the most unlikely person perched at the back of the theatre looking thoroughly bored.

'_Just bloody wonderful,' _Hermione thought to herself.

It had all been fairly mundane for a while after her initial shock, with a general introduction and outline for the subject that Hermione dutifully transcribed into her notepad. The one hiccup was the idea that a whole term's worth of work was to be based solely on a project where she would be unable to change both the topic and her partner if worse came to worse. Hermione had asked if she; and whatever partner was to be assigned to her, could pick their topic, but a collective groan echoed through the lecture theatre when the lecturer stated that that wasn't the point of the exercise and that as each pair was announced, a slip of paper with their project topic would be handed out. Hermione reasoned that there had to be some overlap given the number of students, but this fell on deaf ears and she was left worrying about what topic she would be presented with, and more importantly which partner.

When her name had been called at the end of the hour as well as that of her project partner, there were thankfully only a few people who had not managed to safely scramble out the door clutching their ominous assignments. They didn't really need to hear the forceful, "Not fucking likely!", quickly followed by "Are you completely out of your mind, you ridiculous little Mu...man?" echoing from the back of the hall, nor the descent of the man in question himself. What had ensued for the next few minutes...solidly...was a razor sharp argument of why he should never have just added a course to 'make up numbers.' Hermione had watched Snape rant at Paul Drury; the lecturer, letting him know in no uncertain terms that there was absolutely no way he was going to do such an asinine thing, and that he could just up and resign from the course. Hermione had thought it rather interesting to watch Snape argue himself to a standstill, as the only reply he garnered was that he would automatically fail the subject and still have to pay a thousand quid for his trouble. From her perspective, Hermione found it amusing to watch Snape lose an argument and then be left with little option but to cross his arms menacingly, then try and stare down Paul.

It hadn't worked.

It had been Hermione's tentative suggestion as Snape watched the back of their lecturer exit the room that they adjourn to one of the outdoor cafés on campus to continue their discussion. The fact that he kept muttering about 'bloody nonsense' and a 'waste of time' along with several other barbed comments in her direction that Hermione didn't quite catch was enough to make Hermione seriously consider dropping the course herself, if only to escape Snape's sour moods. Hermione picked up her backpack and started walking off without checking to see if Snape was following or not. As she walked through the crowds, hurrying to be where they needed to be, she kept casting a sideways glance at him thinking that he'd obviously come to terms with the assignment and that she'd been worrying needlessly. However, one dark look in her direction when they happened to both be looking at each other effectively stopped that thought and Hermione sighed before continuing at a brisk pace to the café ahead of them.

'_It's not like it's my fault that the lecturer paired us together. I mean...well, we were sitting at opposite ends of the lecture theatre, but still, there were at least fifty other people I could have been paired with, just not him!' _

Hermione kept taking surreptitious looks to her left to make sure that Snape was still moving towards the café she'd discovered a few days ago. He was, though it was probably more apt to think of the Grim Reaper parting the ways searching for victims rather than the more mundane ex-professor trying to intimidate strangers with no idea of his prior well earned reputation. Hermione, though, was not to be deterred. She'd made the choice of that particular short course because it sounded like it would be an interesting way to meet new people and find out how she reacted to the potentially confrontational nature of the subject matter. Never in her wildest dreams did Hermione think that she'd be paired with the one person who could make the whole thing decidedly uncomfortable, not to mention bloody impossible.

Hermione spied the café in front of them and immediately headed for the one spare table left overlooking the tennis courts. She didn't check to make sure that Snape was still following in her wake, determined as she was to secure the lone table perched in full sun. _'With a bit of luck I might just manage to thaw out before the bastard has a chance to open his mouth again,'_ she thought ruefully to herself.

'_Just my luck to get paired with the one fucking person I know in the whole university,'_ Severus thought to himself, all the while trying very hard to order his argument in such a way that he could get out of the project they'd been assigned. Looking at her marching swiftly to the café, Severus didn't hold out much hope of being successful. He wondered idly if Minerva hadn't taken some of her more favoured students aside and taught them how to piss him off without uttering a single word. She had that same no nonsense walk that Minerva employed when she was truly irritated with him, and although Miss Granger wasn't wholly ignoring him, he was not used to being led around like a little lost kitten. That thought alone was enough to make him start grinding his teeth further into his gum line.

Snape followed in her wake silently and he'd already had an inkling that Miss Granger was not to be trifled with, so he found himself surprised when she decided to open what promised to be an interesting and heated argument with something as mundane as idle, time consuming and ignorant chitchat.

"So, you think I'm wasting my time at University when I should be off doing something more worthwhile in the magical world?"

"I didn't say that, Miss Granger. What I said was that it was a wonder you had not found yourself employment in 'our' world, not that I think studying per se is a waste of your time," Severus said irritably as he took his seat facing the tennis courts.

"Oh!" Hermione replied with more than a little surprise.

"But you know, Professor, that still doesn't explain why you're here. You could be off researching the conundrums of magical potions rather than sitting in the sun outside a Muggle café debating the finer points of a Muggle education."

"True, but have you ever stopped to think that I deserve something I want to do, rather than constantly rising to everyone's expectations, Miss Granger?"

"Whose expectations exactly would those be, Professor?"

"Everyone's."

"You do realise that's hardly enlightening."

"It wasn't meant to be, you nosy little co..." Severus started but the gleam in his opponent's eye quashed the remainder of that train of thought. "Perhaps I should have simply said that it was none of your bloody business and be done with it?"

"Well, yes, I suppose you could have...if of course being a closed off prick is your sole aim in life," Hermione said sharply as she stood abruptly and started to shove her purse and notepad into her backpack. "It was an innocent question, Professor, but I shan't trouble you again...except in tutorials of course."

"Miss Granger...Hermione, please sit down. I enjoy baiting you – what more can I say?"

'_This is not going the way I'd hoped,'_ Severus thought idly to himself. _'She's supposed to tell me that of course she'll do all the work and that I can just add my name to the project at the end of it all.'_ Severus' inner thoughts cut short abruptly as he pushed the hair out of his eyes and the young woman opposite him continued to talk.

"Well, you could tell me why you enjoy baiting me, of course, unless that follows my previous estimation of you," Hermione countered, all the while still standing next to the small table.

"True, though despite what you think, I am not a _'closed off prick'_ as you so indelicately put it. I simply choose not to tell people too much about myself. I like my privacy, and I cannot stand idle chatter."

"Well, you picked the wrong place for idle chatter if it annoys you so. This is after all a café. A café, I might add, that prides itself on idle chatter and gossip - no less. So, if you're not here for the idle chatter, you must be here for the gossip?"

"Neither, Miss Granger. I simply like sitting in the sun on a warm day and thanking whatever deities I should thank that I can do so. The mere thought that I don't have to constantly look over my bloody shoulder to see someone looking at me askance for doing something that is simply pleasurable is immeasurable."

"Well, that is a surprise!"

"How so?"

"Well, I never would have picked you as someone who did something for no other reason than you wanted to do it."

"Of course, but that's because you don't actually know me, Miss Granger. Not many people do actually, and those that do know me, prefer to keep things to themselves. I can't go about scaring students by being myself, now can I?"

"But you don't scare students any more. You haven't for the last few months, though I must admit I really would have loved to have seen the faces of those in the Great Hall at the beginning of the holidays when it was announced that you wouldn't be returning on the first of September. Even more so, I'd love to see their faces tonight when they realise you really have left." Hermione said all the while smiling at the put out man opposite her.

"I could scare you, Miss Granger."

"No, that really wouldn't work, Professor. You have to remember two things. I've known a secret about you since my fourth year, and then I watched as an eye witness when that secret was discovered. No, you don't scare me any more," Hermione said quietly

"But I did scare you at one point surely?"

"Yes, you did, but as I was eleven at the time, it hardly counts. Isn't it enough for you to know that you haven't scared me for quite some time?"

"Only when you were eleven, you say. How about when you thought you were slinking in like a shadow to my private supplies in your second year? Weren't you even a tiny bit afraid of me then?"

"Well...maybe just a little bit, but it was for a good cause, so I figured that the good outweighed the fear if that makes any sense at all."

"Strangely enough, it actually does. I've no doubt that means that the sun has leeched out any fear inspiring tendencies I might have been able to summon in your instance," Severus said with a smirk, all the while wondering just what had happened to his obviously former intimidation techniques.

"So, Miss Granger, are you going to sit down, or do you enjoy the thought of me squinting into the sun and you standing over me?" Snape stated with a scowl, all the while trying to shield his eyes from the full glare of the sun.

"I suppose I could sit down, but only if you call me Hermione. When you call me, Miss Granger, I do strangely enough feel like I'm eleven again...not that you scare me of course, but it's a memory no less."

"Of course...Hermione, please sit down and allow me to be chivalrous enough to buy you a mug of coffee to make up for my fearsome presence," Severus said as he stood up and attempted to bow in a courtly manner.

"Oh, do shut up and just get the bloody coffee!" Hermione huffed impatiently at him and sat down heavily on the chair. "And you can leave the bloody sarcasm at the counter as the tip too," she called out to his retreating back.

"A tip for what?"

"Never mind, Sn...Severus! Just get the bloody coffee before I'm too old to enjoy it."

Severus remained watching her and the caustic way in which he'd been dismissed, arched one eyebrow in such a way as to question her sanity in goading him and was treated to an imperious wave of her hand as she shooed him towards the door of the café. That she then spoilt the levity of the banter by sticking her tongue out at him like a spoilt brat was one that he was unlikely to forget for some considerable time.

"As you wish madam, at your bloody service madam, anything for you...you little..." Severus muttered quietly under his breath as he turned his back and started to walk towards the café door to order and a frothy cappuccino for Miss...for Hermione and his prized extra strong macchiato.

"I wouldn't finish that if I was you, Severus. I might not be able to do much without the necessary accessory, but I do have it on me and you'd be surprised what I can do without it...if you get my drift?"

Severus clenched his hands at his side, but did not turn around. He did after all need to butter her up to get out of the ridiculous project they'd been assigned to complete – one he had absolutely no intentions of doing anything for.

'The little bitch will keep,' Severus thought grimly to himself, as he pushed his way through the door to order their respective coffees.

Standing in the queue in front of the counter, Severus had to do a spot of re-appraisal. The level of noise inside the café made him very thankful that Miss...that Hermione had seemed so attracted to sitting outside. He couldn't help thinking that a carefully placed Confundus charm would allow him to make his way more swiftly to the counter and order the coffee he now felt he desperately needed. Severus felt that if he was to succeed in his quest to jettison the ridiculous notion that he would be attempting a project with 'her,' he first needed to order his thoughts, and for that caffeine was definitely the drug of choice. It always had been, even when the Headmaster had insisted on those interminably long staff meetings. Spying her sitting outside with her hair ruffling in the slight breeze, he wondered just which deity he'd managed to piss off this time. First, there was her glee at catching him unawares in the pub a couple of weeks ago and now this nonsense to argue his way out of as well. She'd been correct though – Olwyn's puddings had more than compensated him for having to put up with Miss Granger's constant chatter in his ear as he ate his dinner there a few times each week.

Why he had never thought to ask what she was going to do until the answer was so abruptly presented to him a mere fifteen minutes ago was beyond him. It simply wouldn't do to let her know just how much she unsettled him, but she did and he had no idea how to wheedle his way out of this new mess. His thoughts were interrupted when he was asked for his order, though, and so he had to place those random thoughts aside as he concentrated on getting his order filled with the crush of students around him. As he waited, he reached for a small plastic tray, looked outside once more, then furrowed his brow at the odd look on Hermione's face, and hoped that by some small miracle the day would soon become much better. It was an idle wish and one that he realistically did not expect to eventuate.

Hermione sat in the sun enjoying the novel experience of sitting outside and making Snape fetch her coffee for her. Had she still been in contact with Harry and Ron, more than the perfunctory greetings they exchanged every so often, she would have been sure to send the fastest owl possible to let them know about this latest oddity in her life. As it was, Hermione still had an owl to send to Minerva to let her know how her first day had been and she had no doubts that Minerva's mirth would more than make up for the lack of contact with the boys. He was watching her every so often through the window too, something which made Hermione smile quietly to herself. With the crush of students' she could see through the window, Snape was no doubt trying very hard not to hex them all out of the road. 'Actually, watching him trying to talk himself out of a fine brought about by the cursing of a hundred or so Muggles might just have made my day truly complete,' she thought slyly to herself. Any humour at Snape's lack of social behaviour was soon left to ponder at another time as Hermione was left with the unsettling feeling that this 'project' would be around to haunt her for some considerable time. Reaching into her backpack she pulled out the notepad she'd flung hastily into her bag a few moments ago and opened it up to have a closer look at just what torture her new lecturer had managed to inflict on her. Aghast at the topic laid out in front of her, Hermione closed the notepad and laid her right hand firmly on the cover. Half hoping that this was some obscene joke, Hermione had another peek at the topic, shut her notepad again quickly and started to hope that a large hole would suddenly appear in front of her so that she could escape the nightmare of trying to explain just what the topic was to Snape.

"This is not happening to me! It's a mistake, a horrible, horrible mistake. The lecturer must be out of his mind to think that I...that we have any hope of doing this," Hermione mumbled to herself all the while holding her head between her hands – fingers pulling at the roots of her hair.

"You do realise, Miss Granger that talking to yourself might be regarded as a sure sign of madness," Snape said directly over her as he put a gaudy brown tray on the small metal table in front of her.

"I take it you've already passed the milestone if you can recognise the symptoms, Pr...Severus?" Hermione replied caustically, though she still did not look up at him.

"No, I have not!" he replied firmly, "Though it was often my belief that the Headmaster would have kept some professional worrier happy for some considerable time with his affectations. Now, Hermione, what could possibly be so bad that you have the look of someone wishing the earth would open spontaneously and swallow them whole?"

"This," Hermione said perhaps more forcefully than she meant as she pushed her notepad towards Snape.

"A notebook?" Severus queried all the while lifting up the tray quickly to stop her from up ending the coffee he'd had to queue for.

"How droll, Professor, but if you'd open the bloody notepad you'd see the real purpose of my disgust."

"It can't be that bad, can it?" Severus asked hurriedly as Hermione lifted her head to look at him directly. 'Oh shit, it obviously is that bad,' he thought to himself as he looked at her face.

"No, I suppose you're right, Professor. It might not be that bad except that it is. In fact, god-awful might be a more appropriate way of describing it."

Hermione went back to holding her head in her hands, though the aroma of freshly brewed coffee was starting to make it through to her startled synapses. Tentatively she lifted her head, using her hair as a curtain so that she could see how Snape, how Severus was taking the news. 'At least he's sitting down for it,' she thought to herself. 'He hasn't started yelling yet, so maybe it won't be quite that ba...' Any thoughts of finishing that internal musing was cut short as Snape started to let her know in no uncertain terms just what he thought of this 'project.'

"He is out of his fucking mind. No, scratch that, he didn't have a mind in the first place if he thinks this is an appropriate topic to write and present an assignment on. I won't do it! I refuse to do it, Miss Granger and you can't make me!" Snape replied heatedly, as he slapped the notepad and loose sheet on the table.

"You're right, I can't make you do it, but not more than half an hour ago our 'esteemed' lecturer let you know that if you do drop this subject you'll receive an automatic failing mark and that your partner will also fail...and I refuse to have a FINC on my record just because of this mess."

"A fink? What in Circe's name has a fink got to do with this?"

"Not a fink you...you dunderhead! An F dash INC, a failed incomplete. In other words, a sign that someone couldn't be bothered trying so they just gave up mark. A listing I refuse point blank to see on my academic record, Professor." Hermione ground out the words slowly, gathering speed as she thought of the fact that the bastard had better not just give up or she'd have more than a few indelicate words to say on the matter.

"It seems we've reached an impasse then, doesn't it, you silly little girl?" Severus shot back angrily across the table, as he leant back and folded his arms in the most imposing way that he could. 'How dare she call me a dunderhead,' he thought, scowling across the table and vowing silently not to give in.

"How dare you call me that," Hermione said. "Just because I actually want to study, not bloody fluff around like you, does not make me silly, and I haven't been a little girl for quite a few years either."

"Do tell, Miss Granger. You called me a dunderhead, so I merely reciprocated with the nearest equivalent I could think of. Surely you don't begrudge me the ability to be just as cutting in my observations as you are?"

"Your wit or lack thereof is truly astounding, Professor, but trading barbs across a table isn't actually resolving the fact that we have a problem."

"Correction – _you_ have a problem, Miss Granger. I don't have a problem with the assignment as I have no intention of actually attempting it."

"But I'll fail if you just up and quit," Hermione replied quietly.

"Then it seems we might just have to come to some sort of agreement about this nonsense then, doesn't it?" Severus said derisively as he waved his hand in the general direction of the notepad.

"Exactly what sort of agreement are you thinking of, Sn...Severus?"

"Come now, Hermione, surely I don't really need to spell it out for you?" Severus said fluidly with more than a little hint of mischievousness.

"Humour me, Severus," Hermione replied cautiously, knowing all at once just where the conversation was heading. She'd had plenty of practice deciphering the nuances he was alluding to, particularly when her friends; and other classmates, had all tried at one time or another to con Hermione into doing their work for them.

"Well, Hermione, perhaps we could come to some sort of arrangement? After all, it seems you actually want to complete this course, whereas I am quite happy to just walk away from this mess. The loss of the money would be regrettable, but some losses really aren't that bad, are they, Hermione?"

"Is that the best you can do, Severus? Because if it is, you're absolutely pants at this sort of thing," Hermione shot back at him before he'd had a chance to continue his case.

"Just for the record, Severus, this is about the twentieth time someone has tried that lark with me. 'Oh, come on Hermione, it's just a couple of pages', or 'but you are so much better at this sort of thing than me,' or my particular favourite, 'but I have to go to Quidditch training and I'll never get it finished in time'." Hermione drew breath having used her fingers to count off the excuses she'd heard and been privy to over the years.

"I always told them; Harry and Ron mainly, but there were others, to bugger off and do their own bloody work, but it never stopped them from trying to cajole me into cheating for them. If I wouldn't cheat for a school project, the sun must have leeched quite a bit more of your grey matter than you realised if you think I'd stoop that low now."

"But I don't want to do it and you do for some insane reason. What could be the matter with me acquiescing to you and leaving the details to your renowned study habits?" Severus asked as he leaned forward and had another sip of his coffee.

"Nice try, Snape, but I'd save your breath. If I stooped as low as you seem to think I would stoop, it would take a hell of a lot more than a few decorated phrases to make me even consider your offer. I suppose your offer is far kinder than the one Ron graced me with one day, though," Hermione replied in a tired voice.

"How so?"

"Well, you have to remember, Professor, Ron tended to use euphemisms when he was trying to be a smart arse. Well, just before it all happened last year he came to me with a rather unique offer. I could use some new Cheat-Easy quill he'd received from the twins to do his Transfiguration NEWT for him and he'd 'pay me back' by letting me 'service his broomstick.' I vowed then; after I'd kicked the smug bastard for hurting me so much, that I would never ever put up with that sort of nonsense again."

"But, I would never...I mean, that's awful. This is completely different though, Hermione. I would never try that sort of rubbish on you. It's just a stupid assignment!"

"Is it really, Severus? The only difference I can see from this side of the table is the remuneration being offered, though if it were to even skirt what Ron suggested I would make you an instant eunuch and Obliviate any of the Muggles who inadvertently happened to look this way at the wrong time."

Severus watched as Hermione leant forward slightly and drew back the sleeve of her blouse a fraction to show him exactly where her wand was. With a sigh, he slowly nodded his head and sat back again holding his coffee. Neither looked away from each other and nothing was said, but in that moment Severus realised that he had no other option than to complete the assignment, much though the thought of it left him decidedly uncomfortable.

"My apologies, Hermione, for your having to put up with that sort of puerile nonsense. Had I realised my mistake sooner I would have never suggested such a crass affront to your good nature. I will help you with the assignment, but I still don't like it," Severus continued quickly, rasing one hand slightly as he watched Hermione smile at him tentatively and open her mouth.

"Thank you, prof...Severus. It might seem like an awful thing to have to do, but you never know what you might find out about yourself in the process. I know I'll find it a challenge too, but at least we sort of know each other and..." anything else Hermione might have said was cut off by the man opposite her.

"Please, Hermione save your breath. I already know just what I've signed myself up for, but I still don't like it, nor do I want to do it."

"It can't be that bad; alright it probably is that bad," Hermione started but one pointed look from Severus was enough to make her qualify her enthusiasm. "We'll just have to make the best of it and look at it, and ourselves honestly. Besides that, just think, Severus, as soon as we've completed the assignment we don't have to think about it ever again."

"Perhaps you're right, Hermione, but I can't help thinking that, _'Touch in all its myriad forms effects changes and affects individuals in many different ways. Using a sociological base, outline specific instances of touch (nurturing, platonic, clinical, sensuous and erotic) and how they affect our perception of each other from the cradle to the grave.'_ as a topic is going to come back to haunt me quite often."

_**All constructive criticism, comments and reviews are most welcome!**_

**NOTES: **

The Cheat-Easy Quilldoesn't exist in canon, (as far as i know), though I have seen variations on the theme in a number of stories. I don't recall the quill having a specific name, but if it does, can someone tell me so that I can add due credit?

The crossover course that has Hermione and Severus entwined in its clutches doesn't actually exist - well, not as far as I've been able to find here in Oz and internationally. The whole set up of the course is pseudo-sociology and pseudo-psychology. It's a mishmash of prior learning and a healthy dollop of bullshit stirred liberally throughout it. It is not meant to denigrate the individual fields that I've selected, so my apologies in advance if anyone thinks it's all a bit off. That was most certainly not my intention and if anything really rankles, let me know and I'll revise it.

The café does actually exist. I used to sit there often when I was at the University of Sydney after having seen my quota of lecturers (I _was _aPublisher's rep) for the day. It does overlook tennis courts and was always jam packed with students and the most useless little brown plastic trays that barely held two cups or mugs of coffee. I used have to return my tray to the counter, but I felt that was pushing the envelope a bit much if Snape had to do likewise.

"


	11. It's Elemental

**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author Note:** Many thanks to the wonderful, **Niamh** for betaing this so quickly for me. Thanks also to **Shiv5468** for answering my Britpicking questions so patiently.

**Additional Note**: I owe a great debt of gratitude to the wonderful pair of, **Ann-MCN** and **Bambu** for their suggestions and help with regards to this chapter. These lovely ladies helped me find 2000 extra words - all of them good. :)

**It's Elemental**

_It is as though in that one moment of innocent connection, she has woven her soul with mine and I don't know how she did it..._

_Tuesday the 5th of September 1999..._

Severus tried very hard not to think too much about the impossible 'project' in the intervening few days since their first anxiety ridden meeting at the university café. Hermione had flashed him a questionable look when he'd gone to the pub for dinner on the Friday evening. She hadn't said anything, but then her facial expression; a mixture of anxiety and annoyance, needed little translation for Severus to understand that she'd expected him to avoid her so soon after their first lecture earlier that day. He'd even forestalled her attempt to talk to him by raising his hand and looking pointedly at her. Not even the thought of pudding would have kept him in that dining room for any longer, and so he'd paid for his meal and left without a backward glance. Severus knew that the longer he avoided his study partner, the more irritated and unhelpful she would become, and that thought alone was enough to irritate him even more. Having observed and hoped that there might be a mass student mutiny against the idea of the assignment, Severus had to resign himself to the fact that that outcome was highly unlikely, more was the pity.

Severus had returned to the university late on the Friday afternoon, ostensibly to gather information on a course commencing just after Christmas, but if he was honest with himself, he also hoped to find some loophole in the university bylaws that would allow him to dispense with Paul Drury's inane course, without losing his thousand pounds in the process. He'd found no satisfactory avenues whatsoever, a situation he found even more irritating. Severus was used to giving directions to his students, not taking them from someone he didn't even know. He wondered just why he'd even decided to do a course with the express thought that it might help him in his teaching, when he hoped that that past was well behind him. The turmoil was so encompassing that he found himself unable to concentrate on very much of anything, which in turn perpetuated the vicious circle he felt himself embroiled in...with no logical escape.

He'd tried to write in his journal several times since he'd happened upon Hermione Granger in 'his' pub in mid-August, but Severus soon resorted to either repeating himself continuously, or becoming so angry at the whole notion of having his perfectly peaceful existence upset, that there were more scratched out lines than actual text. The impetus to throw the journal against the nearest wall had abated as he now recognised that he wasn't just penning his thoughts into an irrelevant object. He had no doubt that Arcanus had in some way engineered the whole thing, but try as he might, Severus simply couldn't order his thoughts sufficiently in order to trick the journal into revealing exactly what part it had to play in the whole sorry mess. Had he been thinking logically rather than emotionally, he might just have recognised that all of those still living that had been gifted with the journals, all shared at least one common link.

He knew he couldn't go on avoiding Hermione; she'd eventually catch him, and it would be all the more pointed and ugly if he resorted to his old tricks to distance himself from her curiosity. All in all, Severus decided that there were probably worse projects that both of them could have been coerced into exploring together. He just couldn't think what they could possibly be when stacked up against the horror that he might have to open himself up and reveal parts of himself he preferred to keep hidden. The whole thought of sharing left him with a sudden shiver at just what sorts of 'specific examples' he'd be forced to endure because of a picky little witch who had never heard of half measures. He also wondered idly whether or not it was his choice of study partner that was causing his unease, rather than the subject matter itself, but every time his mind wandered across some of the possibilities he might have to explore, his anger and frustration at his lack of any previous personal knowledge, just added to his growing sense of unease.

Hermione had spent a considerable amount of time in the university undergraduate library since the previous Friday afternoon trying to find relevant references that could be used instead of some of the ones that her mind rebelliously kept thinking of as interesting examples. Some of her thoughts were extremely unsettling, but try as she might, her mind refused to co-operate and she was left with a distinctly uncomfortable feeling that she was being deliberately drawn back to them for some reason or other that she couldn't quite grasp. Snape had been avoiding her, but in all honesty, Hermione was actually quite grateful for their mutual avoidance tactics. She'd tried talking to him at the pub on the previous Friday night, but he'd thrown down his napkin with a frustrated huff, raised his hand to silence her and abruptly stood and exited the restaurant. That irked her more than anything, because though she was thinking of asking him if he'd thought about the project at all, Hermione had just wanted to say hello to him and let him know that she was just as uncomfortable about the whole thing as he obviously was.

The bastard hadn't given her a chance though, and so Hermione made the decision that should he continue to ignore her as an irritation, she would in turn make him suffer for his curt dismissals. She just had no clue how such a thing could be accomplished.

Hermione had Owled Minerva late on Friday night, knowing full well that even though Minerva might not have some of the answers to her questions, she would be exceedingly grateful to know that Severus had not simply dropped off the face of the earth. That, and Hermione's unlikely discovery of some of his more eclectic choices since he'd left Hogwarts would no doubt interest the older witch. Minerva replied the next day, early in the afternoon. She'd used her Transfiguration skills to send a 'Vowl', a voice activated owl message that was filled with a substantial amount of laughter for some considerable time, before Minerva had managed to sober and leave a short message asking Hermione to meet her for dinner in Diagon Alley that evening.

Hermione was grateful that she hadn't needed to work on the Saturday evening, because she had looked forward to seeing Minerva, whom she thought might just have had some ideas of how Hermione could meet the requirements of the project without resorting to some of her more lurid ideas. She also hoped that Minerva might be able to shed some light on Snape's reluctance to talk to her since the announcement of the assignment partners had been made.

Hermione had become more nervous in the hours before she was due to meet Minerva in the Leaky Cauldron, but she had found herself staring expectantly every time the flames sparked in case Minerva had chosen to turn up earlier than their agreed six o'clock meeting time. Hermione need not have worried. Minerva had been her usual punctual self. She arrived and dusted herself off at the precise time she'd said she'd arrive. It had been the very large grin gracing her face that surprised Hermione most of all, and the idea of disclosing the assignment topic seemed to magically fade from her thoughts almost immediately. It was an infectious sort of smile and Hermione had found herself grinning back at her friend and former Professor.

Minerva nodded sagely towards Hermione, and stopped briefly as if considering her options, before she'd detoured to the bar, where she'd ordered a Pims and lemonade. Once the necessities had been taken care of, Minerva then walked swiftly to the table where Hermione was ensconced, nursing a tired glass of wine and an odd look that seemed to be a combination of worry and fatigue.

Their conversation ranged over a broad array of topics. Everything had been discussed, from Minerva's improving relationship with Albus, to her queries about how Hermione was managing rambling about in the house all alone. They'd had a lovely dinner, with a large liquid component. Hermione, when she thought back on that evening, knew that Minerva was basically grilling her for information. She'd been happy to oblige the older witch with some of Snape's more impassioned pleas about the course they were both unwittingly enrolled in together. Somewhere between Minerva's renewed laughter at Severus' lack of manners in full flight and Hermione's own unease at the whole thing, their conversation had changed direction, though Hermione didn't recognise how it had happened at the time.

It had been at that point that Minerva had changed tack and probed Hermione gently until she blurted out the whole sorry problem regarding the assignment that both of them; she and Severus, had to complete. She really hadn't meant to do be quite so revealing, but somewhere between dessert and the cheese platter, it had all unravelled. When she thought about it later, Hermione was under no illusions that Minerva had rather deftly steered their conversation to the point of finding out just why Hermione kept skirting around her project topic. Hermione, in turn, silently berated herself for not being more circumspect about the whole thing and she could only blame herself for stammering it out in one long rapidly voiced sentence.

Looking back on that evening, Hermione was in no doubt that several glasses of Merlot and a very nice tawny port shared equal responsibility with Minerva for her lapse in concentration. Minerva had laughed again then, sobered; to a point, and then given Hermione an in depth synopsis of Severus Snape in particular, and men in general. The only thing she could clearly remember was the odd wistful look in Minerva's eye when there'd been a lull in the conversation, and it bothered Hermione more that Minerva seemed to think it all a grand game just waiting for the opening gambit to be played. She'd have to remember to ask her at some point during their next outing exactly what that look had been all about, but as it was, Hermione had wasted enough time looking back, particularly as the text in front of her was yielding some very interesting ideas she wanted to explore further.

Though Severus had made a grand show of exiting the pub hastily the previous Friday evening, he still made an attempt to look pointedly at Hermione when they met up on Tuesday morning for their next shared lecture. Neither said very much to each other when they met at the door, other than a perfunctory nod in each other's direction. They didn't sit together, but as the class was finishing, Hermione had made a point of seeking out Severus and asking him if he felt like a coffee to make up for their disastrous start on that ominous first Wednesday. He'd nodded and without saying anything, both of them had made their way through the crowds to the café Hermione had led him to before. Once they'd settled themselves outside with their coffee, and asked the usual perfunctory questions about the weather, weekend and other courses, both of them knew that the next subject to be broached would be even more uncomfortable.

Hermione decided to wade right into the fray, having never learnt that subtlety was a useful skill she should perhaps learn.

"Severus, give me your hand."

"Why?"

"Because I want to show you something."

"What?"

"Something to help us in the project."

"No," he replied curtly. "Why should I?"

"Because...oh, you are infuriating! I want to show you something. Now, give me your hand and stop asking bloody stupid questions."

Hermione reached across the small space of the table suddenly and made to grab Severus' left hand. She connected briefly, but he quickly whipped his hand away, all the while giving her a particularly filthy look, full of malice.

"Don't touch me...ever...again."

"What on earth are you going on about, Severus? We are, after all doing a topic on touch and we have to give 'specific examples' of the different types of touch."

"I don't like to be touched. I never have," Severus said acidly, drawing away deliberately and sitting back in his chair with his arms folded.

"Why not? You touch people every day, even if you're not actually aware of it. In fact, I saw you touch the cashier's hand in the café just now and it didn't seem to bother you then, so why now?"

"That was accidental – this isn't. Just leave off, Hermione. I said I'd do this stupid project, but I don't intend to experiment with you."

"No, I'm not going to 'leave off' as you put it until you tell me why I seem to make you cringe. Is it those nasty Mudblood genes of mine?" Hermione asked shortly.

"No, it is not! I just don't like to be touched by anyone – and I abhor that word too."

"Which one, Severus? Touch or Mudblood?"

"The latter, but the first is a close second."

"You do realise I'll keep pestering you until you tell me why, don't you, Severus?"

"Yes, but only because I know you're awfully good at pestering those around you. I watched you do it for seven years after all."

"And I watched you belittle everyone who you thought wasn't up to your impossible levels of perfection, so I hardly think you have the right to lecture me on my behaviour."

"You wouldn't understand, Hermione."

"Try me."

"Why should I, Hermione? It's none of your business, but you just keep pushing. Can't you simply take no for an answer?"

"No, I can't, Snape. I like to know why someone seems intent on pushing me away. I don't like it and I don't think I should have to put up with this sort of nonsense every time we try and talk."

"Well, that's just bloody grand, isn't it? You need to know and so I'm just expected to tell you every sordid little detail. Well, Miss Bossy-Boots, life doesn't always work like that. Life is not the neat little parcel you think it is. It's messy and cumbersome and uncomfortable...and I refuse to be treated like some unfortunate laboratory experiment just because you want things your way all the time."

"That's not fair, Snape!"

"Why not? It seems remarkably accurate from where I'm sitting. We have to do this because you want to do it. Mi...Hermione. I've already told you I'm not comfortable with it, but you just keep pushing."

"And I'll keep pushing until you realise that we'll keep having this same tired argument until you do tell me. It's me, isn't it, Severus? You really can't stand the idea of us as peers. We have to do this assignment, though I've no doubt you've tried to get out of it one way or another. Well, it obviously didn't work, so you're stuck with me for the duration."

"You're right of course. You always are, but have you ever stopped to think that I have some very distinct reasons why I don't want to do this project with you, Hermione?"

"Nothing more than I was your student...that is the reason, isn't it?"

"Yes and no, Hermione, yes and no," Severus said in a resigned tone as he cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"It's not pleasant, Hermione. The truth never is. Are you sure you want your precious little bubble burst? I doubt that you'll want to know me after I tell you that the world is not the perfect little place you expect it to be."

"Yes, Severus, I want you to tell me," Hermione said in an exasperated voice.

"I think after everything I've been through over the last couple of years, you aren't going to irreparably damage my supposed naivety, no matter what you think. I haven't lived in a 'perfect little place' for some considerable time," Hermione mimicked back at Severus too sweetly.

"All this cloak and dagger nonsense is just ridiculous, Severus. You trusted me before with some of your secrets. I was your student then, so what's changed between then and now?"

"Has anyone ever taken their frustrations out on you, Hermione...other than verbally? Do you know what it's like to live in the constant overbearing knowledge that your presence is so revolting, that you're going to be ignored – truly ignored...forgotten, and left to fend for yourself?

"I've got a fair inkling, Severus..."

"Nonsense," Severus said with a dismissive wave of his right hand. "A couple of weeks being ignored by those imbeciles you call friends is nothing compared to a lifetime of knowing that you're not even worthy of any consideration whatsoever," Severus said in a resigned tone, all the while avoiding Hermione's direct glare.

"There was never any physical violence in my family, but to be wholly ignored is actually worse in many ways. At least if I'd been clouted every so often, I would have known that I wasn't just hidden in the background and unworthy of their attention. They saved their attention for when they yelled at each other. If I happened to see it, I was dismissed as a nothing, not even worthy of them taking pause in whatever argument to consider me."

Severus shook his head fiercely and tried to order his thoughts, unconsciously taking a deep breath and letting out a long sigh. He looked around him at the smattering of students, none of whom seemed to be listening to their conversation, but the urge to stand up and leave was paramount in his mind. He started to reach for his coffee, but realised quickly that he was shaking too much with a combination of rage and fear; Hermione had managed yet again to disarm his usual barriers. Severus wondered just how she managed to get under his skin in such a way that telling her secrets that no one else knew seemed a logical step in their friendship. That sudden unbidden thought was enough to make him again quickly scan his surroundings for a possible escape route...just in case he felt so overwhelmed that he needed to get away from her insistent questions.

Sitting back, his hands in his lap, he looked through the slits of his half closed eyes at the young witch sitting expectantly across from him at the table and wondered just how he'd reached the point where she would be the only person in his life to know almost everything about his past. Minerva knew a few vague details about some of his childhood hurts, but not even Albus knew everything about his feelings of abandonment, and his subsequent disastrous attempt to both please and punish his parents for the hurt they'd caused him.

"This isn't making sense, but you really don't know what I'm talking about, do you, Hermione? No, of course you don't. Well, I do and it's not pleasant. It's the constant state of alert hoping for some small crumb of affection, yet knowing all the while that the only attention I was ever likely to get from my parents came when I'd shamed them by doing poorly at school, or failed to grasp some concept to their satisfaction."

"Who, Severus? Your father?"

"Both of them to a degree, but I could be in a room and my father could walk in, not say a word to me and it was as though I was invisible – a nothing in his eyes."

"Wh...I mean, that's horrible, but why would he do that to a person he loved?"

"They didn't love me, Hermione. They both loved what I represented."

Severus raised his right hand suddenly, palm facing Hermione and said, "No, Hermione, you wanted to know, so please just let me finish. This is difficult enough without your constant interruptions, and if I don't just tell you in one go, I'll Disapparate right now, and the Ministry can bugger themselves before I pay their fine," Severus finished quietly as he swivelled his gaze towards the tennis courts to his right. He couldn't look at Hermione and tell her his sordid little story.

"My parents thought that having a male heir, their only child as it happened, would give them some standing in the insular magical community, and that my maternal grandfather would be more accommodating of our loss of home and status. He wasn't. Grandfather was annoyed with my mother for marrying 'beneath the salt' as he put it. He thought she should have made a better marriage, but my father drank and gambled her dowry away before I entered Hogwarts. Then, when my mother's family refused to advance him more money, my father took his frustration and anger out on the pair of us because we were a reminder of what a mess he'd made of his life. The rest you know, though why I told you...I don't know."

"But surely someone touched you...you weren't completely ignored?"

"Yes, my mother did...for a while, and then when I started to draw away from her, she didn't pursue it. She left me, left us when it all got too much. She abandoned me to my father. I've no idea if she's even alive or dead, nor do I care," Severus said in a resigned tone, with a hint of steel.

"But that still doesn't explain why you don't like to be touched, Severus. If you'd been starved for attention, wouldn't you have sought it out when you could?"

"I did, Hermione, and it remains the worst mistake of many that I have yet to make in my life. Yes, I was thrown a crumb of attention and in doing so, I latched onto something I would never have considered otherwise. The only advantage to my new status was that my father could no longer ignore me. His horror and fear of my power was the sweetest ambrosia for a while...a short while, because he then had to regard me as a product of his neglect. He missed the point even then, but by that time I didn't really care if he feared me for the presumed power I wielded, or the fact that he'd made me what I became."

Severus cleared his throat noisily and made to stand up, but Hermione reached out and touched his left sleeve gently. This time, he flinched but didn't immediately pull away from her touch. Looking across at Hermione then, Severus was surprised to discover that she wasn't looking at him with the pity he's presumed would be the outcome of his story, but with a few tears gracing her cheeks. It was unnerving, but it also left him with an odd sensation of shared sympathy, and had she not spoken, he might just have Apparated away.

"Please stay, Severus. I'm sorry I asked, but I'm not sorry that you told me. I can't imagine what it must have been like for you, but if I promise not to push you too much, will you at least let me show you something?"

Severus grunted, nodded quickly once and stepped out of Hermione's reach before he re-took his seat opposite her. When he'd taken his seat and a hasty, shaking gulp of his now tepid coffee, Hermione reached out her right hand towards where his left hand was lying near the edge of the table. Severus slowly extended his shaking left hand towards Hermione and was rather surprised that he didn't want to move himself away from her again. It was something startling to explore; on his own, later, but certainly not an observation to be shared at this point.

When Hermione was almost touching his fingertips, she stopped and asked gently, "are you sure you're okay with this, Severus?"

Still not looking at her directly, Severus nodded his head slightly and broached the last little distance between their hands. He was rather surprised to find that he was not the only one who was shaking, but that there was some odd spark of recognition that he'd only ever felt once before in his life – and that had also been from the person opposite him now. He hadn't mentioned it before, because he wasn't sure that she even remembered it.

Hermione felt the warmth in his fingertips and gradually moved her hand forward so that it lightly and gently moved over the length of his palm until her fingertips reached the edge of his shirtsleeve. Both of them stayed that way for a while, enjoying the warmth of their shared touch. Neither could have given any real idea of how long they stayed like that, before Hermione reached out with her left hand so that she could turn his unresisting hand over and have access to his palm.

Cradling his left hand gently with her right hand, she resolved not to make Severus too uncomfortable, but she was still astounded that he'd allowed her to do the very thing he wished to have no part of. He'd let her experiment with him and it was a revelation to realise that both of them had crossed some unknown boundary, but just what that entailed was still too volatile to name.

Hermione had no idea just how soft his hand was, and his palm was long, and not too wide. It perfectly matched his long tapering fingers. She looked at his hand critically as the text had suggested, but then decided that improvisation rather than following the dry directions quoted, was going to be more interesting and a way of meeting the requirements of the project, without quoting great tracts of text verbatim in their report.

Severus hadn't said a word since he'd sat down again. He was confused to think that Hermione's touch was welcome in a way that he'd never thought was possible. It was an uncomfortable realisation that he'd missed a great deal by walling himself off from feeling something as simple as having his hand cradled effortlessly. It still didn't stop him from unconsciously scanning his surroundings in case it all became too much and he needed to escape the sensations Hermione was eliciting from him.

Any other thoughts he might have entertained were suddenly interrupted when Hermione gently started tracing around his palm and each finger in turn with her index finger. Her touch was light, almost too light, but he wasn't about to interrupt her so that he could embarrass himself by wanting her touch to continue. He needn't have worried, for Hermione was now tracing each finger in turn, pausing briefly as she reached the webbing between each finger...and it was becoming very uncomfortable to watch her as she explored his hand so thoroughly. Severus doubted she had any idea of the effect on him and he was rapidly reaching a point where no only did he not want her to stop, but he wondered how he could ask her to continue...indefinitely.

Hermione looked up at Severus carefully, mindful of the trance they both seemed to be entwined in, but as he hadn't pulled away, Hermione wanted to make sure that Severus wasn't sitting opposite her trying to work out just when he could bolt from the table. The real shock was the intense look on his face that Hermione spied. It was a completely unguarded look of utter fascination. She could see his eyes moving slowly as they followed the path that her finger was tracing. He also seemed to be unaware of just how much he was moving side to side in his seat. Hermione put that movement down to his discomfort at her presumption, but she wasn't about to ask him if he wanted her to stop. She was enjoying the chance to touch someone in such a way that she could only hope to discern her effect on him, if any.

Neither of them seemed to want this tenuous connection to break, and Hermione was relieved to think that Severus trusted her enough not to push the issue too much. She gently turned his hand over, having laid her palm directly over his. She met no resistance and began mimicking the patterns she'd traced on his palm all over the top of his hand. The same light movement, the same caress of the same points, but from a different perspective saw Severus becoming more and more uncomfortable, but he had no real desire to break their contact.

The outside world had ceased to exist in that time, and neither of them quite realised just how much this simple experiment was to change their whole outlook of each other. Hermione finished up in much the same way as it had started, by slowly moving her palm over the top of his hand, drawing away gradually until there was no more than a hair's breadth between their fingers as their hands rested on the table.

Taking a deep breath, she looked up once more to see Severus looking down at their hands on the table in front of him. He hadn't run which she'd felt had been a distinct possibility, but she'd never expected the odd sort of quiver and warmth radiating throughout her whole body as a result of something so simple as touch. She had no idea what he was thinking, but he seemed to be wholly focused on the table and she was itching to ask him what he thought of the exercise and whether or not it was a good example to use in their assignment.

"Are you alright, Severus? I didn't...I mean, can you tell me what it was like?"

The spell broken, Severus looked up at Hermione as she tentatively asked her questions, but he had no idea of how to answer them. He was alright, but that really didn't answer her in any way that was at all satisfactory. Truth be told, Severus wasn't entirely sure that he was alright, but his tingling hand, and indeed, most of his whole body, was testament to his confusion. It wasn't the only thing confusing him at that point in time, but his mind skittered away from that sort of complication. He felt he should just up and leave what could be a potentially embarrassing conversation, but Hermione seemed genuinely unaware of the power she'd exerted over him. He must have looked shocked, because he could hear her twittering away in the background and he had to concentrate to understand what she was saying.

"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to upset you, Severus. I had no idea it would be like that, but it was meant to be friendly. It was friendly, wasn't it?" Hermione asked quickly, her panic building with each second he remained quietly looking at his hand still resting on the table.

Severus cleared his throat roughly, trying to filter the actual question being asked of him, but alighted on one word...friendly.

"Yes, Hermione, it was friendly, 'very' friendly in fact. It was...it was something rather unusual, and...and I'm not sure exactly how to answer your questions in any satisfactory way."

"I don't understand?"

"Neither do I, Hermione. I can't actually give you a clear and concise answer answer, but I could show you...if you'll let me?" Severus asked tentatively, unsure if Hermione could allow herself to trust him quite that much.

The shock must have registered on his face, because Hermione went to move the upturned right palm she'd placed suddenly on the table in front of him back towards her lap. Severus reached out quickly to stop her, grasping her right hand in his. Both of them let go quickly and resumed their previous distance, yet neither looked away from the intense look they were bestowing across the table at each other.

"My apologies, Hermione. I don't think I can answer your questions, but I do want to show you just what you did. I...just don't know if the direct approach will be appreciated afterwards."

"How so? I didn't do anything that unusual, did I?"

"Give me your hand, Hermione so I can show you something," Severus asked softly, repeating her own earlier request of him.

Hermione looked at him strangely, partly due to his mimicking of her previous request, but more because of the soft tone that he had used. She'd never heard him use that tone of voice before and it shocked her to think that he could sound so genuinely surprised and a little bit amused by just varying his inflection.

Severus cradled her right hand in his left, and proceeded to run his first finger softly over her palm and around each finger in turn. He tried to vary his pressure a little, as he reached the webbing between her fingers, alternately stroking and caressing every inch of her hand in front of him. Unlike Hermione's explorations, Severus was determined to watch her closely to see just when she realised exactly what he meant by 'friendly', but though her face was completely unguarded, Severus lost himself in watching the nuances of her dawning comprehension.

When he'd felt she recognised the meaning of his cryptic answer, Severus was more surprised that Hermione didn't immediately draw away from him, but instead leaned closer and unconsciously parted her lips. It was this mesmerising sight that made Severus want to shift in his seat as he had before, but he was determined to hold the upper hand this time...in a manner of speaking.

Severus spent longer caressing Hermione's palm, using the thumb of his left hand to graze the skin on the top of her hand at the same time. It was at that point that he saw Hermione blush, and yet she still didn't pull away. It was the wholly delectable half-lidded gaze she flashed at him that left Severus in no doubt that she now understood exactly what he'd meant by his definition of 'friendly.'

Like two sparks created by the clash of flint, they continued to look at each other and it was only the abrupt scraping of a chair near them that broke their concentration. Hermione startled and pulled her hand slightly away from Severus' grip, but she didn't withdraw completely.

Her only response as he started to open his mouth, was to lift the fingers of her left hand to cover his lips and nod with a wry smile on her face. She quickly dropped her left hand back to her lap, almost; but not quite, dreading the thought of what their next conversation would entail. It was a mixture of excitement, fear and surprise...and another unexpected discovery, all warring with one another as she tried to sort out exactly what had just happened.

Severus' own response was to quirk an eyebrow at Hermione and return her wry smile with one of his own. Neither seemed willing to break the new understanding, but Hermione seemed unable to help herself.

"I...I...see what you mean by 'friendly', Severus. That was...I mean...I never expected that something so simple, so common could be like that! It was like that for you too, wasn't it?" Hermione asked quietly, almost dreading whatever glib and scathing answer he might proffer in return.

He nodded slowly once and placed both of his hands on the table, palms down. If he was honest with himself, he hoped that Hermione would understand his silent invitation. Hermione understood the silent request and so she lifted her hands from her lap and placed them over Severus' hands, only lowering them when she was looking at him directly. It proved to be a potent mix of excitement, nervousness and...arousal all overlaid by the simple warmth of connecting with another person. Somehow; though neither knew who moved first, each of them turned their hands over and clasped each other's hands gently, using their thumbs to stroke across each other's skin as far as their individual thumbs could reach.

"So?" Hermione queried softly, all the while alternating her gaze from their joined hands to Severus' equally curious face.

"So, indeed, Hermione. I must admit I really didn't think that would happen, but I can't say I'm not glad to have experienced it. It was...unexpected," Severus said in a voice that was half an enquiry and half an admission.

"No, neither did I, but this isn't the first time you've held my hand, Severus."

"You remember?"

"How could I forget? It was a day I doubt I'll ever forget. I think it will be etched into my memory for as long as I choose to think about it," Hermione said with a distinct edge of grief lacing her voice.

"That bad?"

"Both good and bad, for the obvious reasons. It was a revelation and my hand is tingling now...just like it did that afternoon. I suppose the only thing I'm wondering now, is...where do we go from here?" Hermione asked breathlessly, almost fearing that Severus was going to laugh at her and dismiss this as some sort of twisted game.

"I don't know, but all of this rather changes things, doesn't it? I mean...it changes things if you want them to change, Hermione."

"Yes, it does...and yes, I do. How could you think otherwise? I just...but how did things change so quickly, Severus?"

"We decided to 'experiment' is the concise answer, but I really don't know what the actual answer is. I suppose we'll just have to muddle through and see how things sort themselves out."

"Yes, I suppose you could say we discovered something we hadn't realised before...in any real coherent form, that is," Hermione said cryptically, all the while looking anywhere but Severus as she spoke.

Severus gave Hermione a quizzical look and then rewarded her with a rather started look.

"Do you mean what I think you mean?"

"What do you think I mean, Severus?"

"I...I think that if you're trying to goad me, or tease me for my failings, then you're doing a remarkably good job. It was a simple question, Hermione, but if you are playing with me, I'll never forgive you," Severus answered shortly, as he suddenly let go of her hands and turned sideways in his seat to face the tennis courts again.

Hermione stood following his abrupt retreat, and then and moved to her left to face Severus directly. She crouched down and spent a short while trying to get Severus to lift his head and look at her directly by simply staring at his turned face. When he refused to acknowledge her presence in front of him, she placed her hands gently on his knees and said, "you really are silly sometimes, Severus. You accuse me of pushing you, and yet you seem utterly determined to push me away. I've got something important to say to you, but I'd prefer to talk to your face, rather than your ear."

He turned his face then to look at her, and saw the tentative smile she was directing at him.

"If you have something to say, Hermione, I'd prefer you to just say it so that I can leave as soon as possible."

"I don't want you to go, Severus. I didn't mean to tease you...and if I did, then it wasn't something I did consciously. I suppose I was just letting you know something important. Well, I think it was important at any rate, though you might not agree with me."

"Well, what was it?" Severus asked quickly.

"You remember that day in the dungeons? Yes, of course you do. You said as much just now. Well, when you watched me that day, it made me feel protected and cared for, but all of that changed as soon as I grasped your hand. I didn't recognise it then, but things changed from that moment, maybe for both of us? Until today I really didn't understand what that change was, or maybe I did understand and I just tried to ignore it all."

"Do you mean that?"

"Of course I do, Severus. I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it!" Hermione shot back in an exasperated tone.

"Are you always so quick to show your temper, Hermione?"

"Only when I think it's warranted or someone I care for is being deliberately obtuse and disagreeable," Hermione said in a huff.

"You really do care for me?" Severus asked in an incredulous tone.

"Yes, Severus, I really do care for you, which is why I find you so bloody infuriating sometimes. This is all very new for me too, and if I'm not comfortable with something, I'll let you know first of all."

"I can believe that," Severus said with a smirk.

"Will you also believe me when I tell you that I will never ever play with your feelings either?"

Severus nodded, suddenly unable to voice his shock and surprise at Hermione's impassioned talk of seeing where all of this might lead. He knew she'd never deliberately hurt his feelings, but it was all so raw and new that he couldn't simply throw all his caution aside. His thoughts were interrupted as Hermione suddenly looked at her watch and stood up in front of him again.

"Severus, I have to go. No, not because of all this," Hermione said quickly when she saw the hurt look on Severus' face. "I'll be late for work if I don't leave soon. I hope I'll see you tonight, but I'll understand if I don't," Hermione said hurriedly.

Severus stood up as well and watched as Hermione flapped around picking up her backpack and smoothing down her hair. Then she surprised him by turning towards him quickly, and pecked him lightly on the cheek. As she started to leave, Hermione turned to face him again and called out suddenly.

"If I don't see you tonight, I'll see you on Friday, Severus. Sorry...oh hell, I'm really going to be late," as she spied her watch again, and then walked swiftly away from him, all the while leaving Severus standing near their table looking utterly surprised by her all over again.

_**All constructive criticism, comments and reviews are most welcome! **_

_**Go on, throw me a crumb. :)**_


	12. A New Direction

**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author Note:** Many thanks to the wonderful, **Niamh** for her continued betaing of this story, particularly as it's been going for so long. Also, many thanks to **Shiv5468** for her Britpicking skills. Oh, and as it's Shiv's birthday today (05/04/06), many happy returns for a wonderful day too:D

**A New Direction**

_Tuesday the 7th September, 1999 continued..._

Severus watched Hermione leave, weaving her way effortlessly in amongst the crowds of students heading in a myriad of different directions. She had a spring in her step and her loose hair bounced as she walked. She didn't look back, but Severus liked to think he was under no illusion for said bounce. Her genuine worry at being late was one source for her haste, but Severus decided it was a genuine happiness that made her movements so spry. She had no reason to lie to him, but the whole morning had been one of such devastating emotions, that he didn't quite know what to think about everything that had transpired. Once he could no longer see her in the sea of humanity in front of him, he sat down heavily, gulped down his now stone cold coffee and grimaced at the bitter taste it left in his mouth. Lacking any definitive reason to stay on the campus, Severus toyed with just sitting in the sun and enjoying the fact that he didn't actually have to be anywhere, and that no students would be searching out what little peace he had managed to find for himself. Given the tumult of his emotions, Severus decided that was all to the good.

Nevertheless, it was all so different, so new and untried. Though he welcomed the new direction and untold possibilities opening up in front of him, his old wariness and sense of self-protection made him wonder more and more just, why Hermione would ever entertain some whimsical notion that they might have some basis of a relationship, however that might end up. Their touch had been something so illuminating and revealing that now that Hermione was no longer sitting opposite him, Severus began to wonder if it had all been a dream...a rather delicious dream, but a fantasy borne out of their mutual stress over just how to proceed with a project that neither of them seemed truly comfortable exploring. That wasn't really fair to either of them and Hermione herself had admitted the attraction had an older basis to that afternoon in the dungeons where it had coalesced into something tangible and packed full of potentialities. The more Severus argued with himself, the more confused he became. He had no idea just what to do, but Hermione had said she might see him this evening, so any response he might entertain was firmly laid in his court. It scared and unnerved him that he was not able to discern exactly what he should do. It was a completely alien concept and Severus knew that he would have never acknowledged such a thing openly. After so many years walled off and isolated, the chance to truly open up and share himself with someone frightened him more for the loss of control than for the results of losing that control.

His emotions were in flux, tumbling over each other like players fighting over the elusive Golden Snitch. That sudden raw sensation of pure emotion was one that Severus was unaccustomed to and he felt himself in more of a quandary than was actually warranted. There were so many 'ifs' sitting just out of reach that he wasn't sure just which way he was supposed to react. He had never before felt unsure of how he would react to any given situation...and it unnerved him to question his reactions now. Hermione had made the point of pushing him to respond to her gentle probing and the skin just above his knees was still tingling even after her hasty departure. Shaking his head nervously, as though doing so would order his conflicted thoughts, Severus stood quickly and decided to head home and ponder the whole mess in a quieter and safer environment, an environment in which he was in control.

Hermione promised herself not to look back as she left the quadrangle where the café was situated. It was so tempting to use her cell phone to call Barney and make up some lame excuse about why she wouldn't be at work, but as she walked briskly to the nearest building in order to find a quiet spot to _Apparate_, her doubts began to build. By the time she'd found a deserted spot and fixed herself on her lounge room, Hermione was worried that it had all been a mutual response to the stress of their assignment. What if it had merely been a product of an irrational reaction to pushing Severus until he acquiesced? Hermione knew instinctively that that was not the case, but without Severus next to her; to ground her and talk things through, every uncertainty seemed to spiral outwards – new tentacles of worry, all probing for a weak spot. She was sure that neither of them had meant things to change so rapidly, but that still didn't quite explain why neither of them had not simply vanished, and dealt with 'those' consequences, rather than the more volatile concoction they were both beginning to brew together. Perhaps, with the benefit of distance, it might just have been an irrational reaction to the subject matter. Hermione dismissed that errant thought as it didn't adequately explain the generalised tingling throughout her whole body or the steady thrum of anticipation that Severus might just rise to the challenge and be at the pub tonight.

Once Hermione was safely at home, she dropped her backpack on the floor next to the lounge. She headed into the kitchen for a quick cup of tea, before going upstairs to have a shower and get ready for work. Sitting on the sofa, having put the scalding mug down, Hermione looked at her hands critically, turning them over again and again, as she tried to understand how something so simple had led to such startling revelations...for both of them. It was this odd sense of awareness, of knowing absolutely that neither of them had expected their friendship to take such a large leap in a matter of a few hours. They were friends of a sort, but somewhere in the mix, it had all changed yet again to become something that was arousing, exciting and a little bit frightening all at the same time. Spying the mantle clock, Hermione gulped down the last of her tea and quickly got ready for work, though she did take a little extra time to try and wrestle the tangles out of her hair and put just a smidge of blush on her already reddened cheeks.

Smiling to herself, Hermione ruffled her hair one last time, grabbed her purse and decided to walk to work instead of just Apparating into the back laneway as she normally did. She reasoned that the fresh air might just help clear the muddle of emotions swirling in her mind.

It hadn't really helped, Hermione decided as she'd dawdled for part for the way, completely lost in her thoughts and had to almost sprint to get to work on time. Stowing her purse in her locker, Hermione took a moment to just take a few deep breaths before she faced Olwyn and the customers. It wouldn't do to let Olwyn sense too much of a change in her demeanour, as Barney's wife had a penchant for uncovering gossip like a Niffler after a lost gem in the dirt. Olwyn reminded Hermione of Minerva to a degree. Both women were friends and confidantes, but Hermione was still a bit shocked at Minerva's forward approach to handling Severus. Some of the things they'd talked about, though in more general terms, made her flush again, and it was with difficulty that Hermione grabbed the handle of the staff locker room and headed out the door to await...a world of possibilities.

Severus had felt the residual tinge of magic surrounding the area that he regarded as his Apparition point. Unconsciously he smiled an odd crooked smile, thinking that perhaps Hermione had also decided that this was the point closest to their class and was safely hidden enough to use as a way station. It was comforting to think that they might share even more in common than either might have otherwise thought.

Once he'd managed to get past Nancy and her incessant questions about what he did for a 'crust,' Severus found himself ensconced in his sanctuary. It was a remarkably peaceful place, albeit with a healthy layer of magical protection and silencing charms embedded in the walls of his apartment to dissuade 'visitors.' He found himself at somewhat of a loose end, half conscious of the time and half irritated by the fact that if he arrived at the pub too early, he might seem a little too eager to see Hermione. Severus thought long and hard about just how much of a tumult the whole day had been so far. Looking at his hands critically, Severus couldn't understand just when their barriers had lowered to the degree that they had, but it was all so new that it left him unnerved by the power Hermione unwittingly wielded over him.

Snorting softly, Severus continued to turn his hands this way and that, seeking some definitive evidence that it had all happened and had not just been some odd dream. That he was completely unmanned by Hermione's gesture in making him look at her – and that he'd done so, just made him scowl all the more ferociously as he thought himself a foolish man for believing that anything might come of all of this...mess. For it was a mess, but one that he found himself hoping that something good might come of it, though what that might entail skittered away from his conscious thoughts like droplets of spilt mercury. She'd completely stunned him though when she'd looked at him quickly, all the while stumbling over her apologies for leaving so quickly, by kissing him on the cheek...again. Severus felt himself flush at the thought that Hermione had kissed him twice, and he had yet to return the favour. Once on that awful night he preferred to forget and now on the opposing cheek. He wondered idly where she might choose to bestow a third kiss, but mentally chastised himself for thinking such thoughts. He continued to sit, just thinking quietly, but each time he came back to the idea of really kissing Hermione, and all the implications for both of them if they continued the 'explore' each other at a more intimate level. With a snarl of irritation after the third such derailment of his thoughts, Severus stood abruptly and went to have a shower before he annoyed himself into one of his moods and ruined any chance of enjoying Hermione's company.

Hermione had had a torrid time with Olwyn's questions, all more pointed and barbed as the early part of her shift progressed. Whilst Hermione had thought herself presentable and more importantly not flushed, Olwyn had seen straight through Hermione's protests that nothing was wrong with her, other than her being flushed because she's been running late for work. Olwyn's sage look, coupled with a faux retreat, made Hermione expel a breath shakily and start fiddling around the kitchen for her apron and order book.

Olwyn came up behind Hermione then, ostensibly to see what she was fussing over, laid her right hand on Hermione's left shoulder and said, "You know I'm only teasing, don't you?"

"Yes, Olwyn, I know. It's just...all so new and strange and..."

"Ah, well, it always is at first, luv. Now sit yourself down before you break something and I'll make you a cuppa. The punters can wait," Olwyn said hastily as Hermione opened her mouth. "They can have another drink if worse comes to worse, but the ones who want to eat my cooking will still be there in ten minutes."

Hermione pulled a chair over from near the wall and sat down heavily at the table where Olwyn usually placed the meal orders. With her elbows propped up on the table, Hermione grasped the old and very floral mug in front of her, and took a tentative sip of the hot tea. Watching Olwyn move around her kitchen was soothing, and it reminded Hermione of watching her own mother move effortlessly around the kitchen when she was home for holidays and just catching up with everything she'd missed. Wiping a hasty tear that threatened to escape, Hermione concentrated on her mug of tea. Olwyn, true to her word said nothing else, just busied herself getting everything where she wanted it. She glanced at Hermione every so often, more to make sure that Hermione would be alright and that her teasing hadn't been a little too abrupt.

When Hermione had finished her tea, she sighed, laid the mug down on the table and thanked Olwyn before she stood, placed the chair back against the wall and walked out the door to the restaurant. Almost without thinking, Hermione scanned the smattering of diners, almost relieved that Severus wasn't there to watch her fluff everything. Her mind in turmoil and gibbering nonsense was something he really didn't need to see, not as far as Hermione was concerned.

Having taken the first few orders and answered some questions regarding the specials of the day and the puddings on offer, Hermione turned and went back into Olwyn's kitchen to give her the first orders for what promised to be a busy night.

Following his shower, Severus dressed quickly and returned to his living room. He'd received a new book in the post from a Muggle bookshop he'd found that had looked interesting, but try as he might, it was not holding his attention. With a thud, the book landed heavily on the table next to his chair and Severus stood and began to pace. It was a rather clear sign, even to him, as to how much Hermione had managed to unsettle him. The emotions roiling around from their connection and touch earlier that day had been something that Severus was sure he would never experience. He was under no illusions regarding his less than stellar past when it came to recognising that the loneliness that had dogged him for years was a shield and mantle he accepted for a rash and stupid decision as a teenager. To then see a glimpse of something he'd long thought unattainable was unnerving and it left him in a quandary as to how he should proceed...if at all. Hermione had asked him in a vague way if he'd be at the pub tonight; she'd be at work already, and though she'd given Severus a reason to excuse himself, Severus wasn't sure what he should do. Having stopped pacing, Severus just stood in the middle of the room, turning slowly to survey his sanctuary and mulled over his inability to make a simple decision as to whether or not he stayed home, or went out for dinner.

Stalking into his kitchenette, the decision was made much easier when he spied a lone can of baked beans on the pantry shelf and one slice of bread lying forlornly in its wrapper on the bench. Grunting, half in frustration and half in resignation, Severus turned, scrubbed his face with his hands, and then headed for his bathroom. Having brushed his teeth and combed his hair, scowling all the while at the mirror in front of him, Severus took a deep breath, closed his eyes and concentrated on the laneway behind the pub.

The laneway was a lot more crowded than he remembered it ever being before. There had obviously been a delivery from the brewery, for he'd managed to Apparate a scant foot away from one of the large silver kegs. With a shudder, more at his sheer luck than anything else, Severus was entirely grateful that the Accidental Magical Reversal Squad was not going to be needed. If he'd landed on one of those monstrosities, the mirth at Severus Snape having splinched himself with an eighteen-gallon keg of beer would have been broadcast the length and breadth of the Wizarding World before he'd had a chance to threaten and then Obliviate all the witnesses.

With another shudder at the barely avoided nightmare of such a mistake, Severus took another deep breath, brushed his hands hastily down the top of his wool trousers and turned to walk out of the laneway and into the restaurant to his immediate left.

Having entered the restaurant, Severus was surprised at how crowded it looked. He almost walked out, but Hermione had chosen that moment to walk out of the kitchen with an armful of plates. Spying him, Hermione gave Severus a broad smile and cocked her head to show him a table just near the kitchen door. Nodding once, Severus weaved his way through the other tables and sat down with his back to the wall so that he had a good view of the whole dining area. Hermione, having delivered the three plates, returned towards the kitchen via Severus' table, and stopped briefly to talk to him. Before she'd had a chance to open her mouth though, the loud couple to the right of Severus who'd been making the night sheer torture for her already started complaining again about the shoddy service and stodgy food. Loud enough for most of the dining room to hear, the older man pointedly asked Hermione if she was going to flirt all night with her favourites, or get the rest of their order for them.

Severus turned to his right at that point and gave them a look that promised torture and mayhem if they continued, but Hermione placed her hand on his left forearm and said, "It's alright, Severus. I can handle them, just eat your roll and I'll bring you back a drink."

Grunting shortly, all the while pinning the offending diner with his unblinking stare, Severus cleared his throat and looked back towards Hermione as if to say something, but she was already making her way back through the kitchen door.

"I should bleeding well think so," said the voice of the imbecile at the next table.

"It's the same everywhere, dear. Young people just have no work ethic these days," the woman with him replied.

"I remember in my day, Harold, that we had to be up at the crack of dawn and there was no fraternising with the customers," she continued.

"Quite right, Elsie. I've a mind to talk to the management, not that I think it would do any good of course," the imbecile replied.

Severus sat as still as he could, though the temptation to turn the pair of them into matching footstools was almost worth any trouble that it caused. Eviscerating the innocent roll in front of him, Severus heard their continued twittering in the background through the haze of anger and teeth grinding. Once Severus had reduced the roll in front of him to a jumbled mass of crumbs, he looked up and glared again at the whining couple. Willing himself to unclench his jaw, for it was beginning to cause him a monstrous headache, Severus heard the door to his left creak and saw Hermione walk out with two plates. She didn't stop to look at Severus, but an audible sigh of relief greeted him as she steered her way to the table to Severus' right. Severus supposed the sigh was in thanks that he'd destroyed a bread roll and not the customers, tempting though that thought was.

Setting the plates down carefully in front of the two whining wretches, Hermione placed their bill between the salt and pepper shakers on the table and turned to leave as quickly as she could.

"Not just yet, missy! This isn't what I ordered. **_I_** ordered the bread and butter pudding and my wife ordered the lemon meringue pie," the imbecile called Harold said in an imperious tone.

Hermione stopped, turned slowly and went back to their table. Standing between the couple, Hermione swapped their plates around, apologised for her error and made to leave yet again.

Severus meanwhile was watching the whole drama unfold. Rubbing his left forearm slowly from side to side on the table, as his wand moved slightly in his charmed sleeve, he found himself speaking almost without realising it.

"I've often thought that those who ascribe to the lack of manners in others are covering up for their own...deficits, unless of course, you wish to apologise to Her...to your waitress for your nonsense?" Severus drawled.

Hermione pinned Severus with a filthy look that promised that she would have several words to say to him once she managed to finish work for the night, and Severus had the good grace to look moderately apologetic for his interference.

As Hermione turned to apologise to the two blustering idiots behind her, they stood abruptly, made a show of insisting that they would not pay for such an appalling meal and started to leave the dining area.

As Severus opened his mouth, Hermione raised her right hand slightly and silently begged him to not say another word. Shaking her head slightly, she turned to watch the couple open the door to leave, only to see the woman's left shoe suddenly lose its heel. Turning quickly to Severus again, his face the picture of malicious glee, Hermione glared at him once more and walked quickly back into the kitchen without another word.

Fuming in silence, Hermione got to Olwyn's order table, took a huge breath and proceeded to tell Olwyn that two of the customers had just left without paying for their meal. Olwyn turned then, having just removed a pudding from the steamer, strode over to the door, cracked it a bit and had a look out into the restaurant. Reassuring Hermione that she wouldn't be docked for someone else's bad manners, Olwyn asked Hermione to describe the customers so that she could tell Barney in case they tried to return, or were instead having more drinks in the main bar.

Having described them to the best of her ability, Hermione was surprised when Olwyn started to laugh, as that certainly wasn't the reaction she'd been expecting. Olwyn assured Hermione that Harold and Elsie were very well known around the area for their seeming inability to pay for their meals. Actually, Olwyn was quite grateful they'd left, as this had been the first night they'd appeared. When Hermione queried the significance of the first night's appearance, Olwyn had said that they usually made a habit of paying for the first night's meal, and none of the others they chose to enjoy.

"But won't they come back, Olwyn?"

"Not if they've any sense, Hermione. If they do come back, they know we'll call the plod and that would spoil their fun no end. No, they won't be back," Olwyn said, all the while with a broad grin on her face.

"Perhaps I should thank your fellow for seeing them off, Hermione? After all, he's saved Barney and me quite a few quid and a lot of grief in the long run."

"No, I don't think that's necessary, Olwyn. I've a few words to say to him at any rate about his butting in and defending me to a couple of con artists. I don't want you to reward him, otherwise he'll never understand just why I'm so annoyed with him."

"He must like you. Defending your honour and seeing the pair of them off the premises warrants some sort of reward, Hermione," Olwyn said slyly.

"Oh, he'll get what he deserves all right," Hermione said with an odd look on her face. "I've a few ground rules for him that he's not going to like. If you reward him for this, Olwyn, he'll take it as carte blanche to do it again."

"Ah, well, maybe so, but he'll be getting a large pudding after this roast you're about to take him. Of course, I could take it out myself and thank him," Olwyn said sagely as Hermione started to flush. "I really wouldn't mind seeing what sort of chap has you so flustered," Olwyn teased as Hermione mumbled something unintelligible and swiftly picked up Severus' order from the table before heading for the dining room.

Heading through the door, Hermione let out a deep breath thankful that Severus was still sitting at his table concentrating on the savaged bread roll in front of him. Hermione stopped and stood just looking at him for a moment, before she gathered her wits and headed over to place his meal in front of him. Severus looked up at almost the same time and started to stutter an apology...of a sort to Hermione. Hermione held his gaze steadily, then decided that it really was rather flattering to think that he would go to the trouble of defending her to the two rude prats that had infuriated her with their snide comments for most of the evening.

"It's alright, Severus. I'm angry with you, but I dare say you know why?" Hermione said tiredly.

Severus inclined his head slightly, all the while maintaining eye contact with Hermione. "Would you like me to go?"

"No, I'd like you to stay and we can talk about this in an hour or so when I finish up. That's if you want to stay, that is?" Hermione asked nervously.

"I...I'm sorry, Hermione. I shouldn't have let my temper get to me, but they deserved a great deal more than they received from me."

Hermione looked at Severus more closely and could see that he was fidgeting, running his fingers on the edge of his plate. After all the years of watching him using deliberate movements in the classroom, fidgeting and stumbling over his words seemed rather incongruous with the man she was just beginning to know as something other than a teacher.

"Yes, I suppose they did, but you took an awfully large risk using magic in a pub chock full of Muggles, Severus," Hermione said quietly. If I'm honest though, I'm actually a bit flattered that you wanted to defend me to them."

"Only a bit, Hermione?" Severus asked teasingly.

"Yes, Severus, only a bit, but if it's any consolation, I'm a lot mad at you for using magic in such a way."

"Would I redeem myself if I told you that it was better than turning them into matching footstools?"

"I take it that's why you took your frustration out on an innocent dinner roll?"

Severus said nothing, but had the grace to colour a little bit high on his cheeks. Opening and closing his mouth, Severus shook his head slightly and turned his attention to the overfull plate in front of him.

"I have to go back to work, but there's pudding for afters and warming charm on your plate, so your dinner won't be stone cold," Hermione finished under her breath, before she headed back into the kitchen.

Severus had thanked Hermione quietly, though he wasn't quite sure if she'd even heard him as she left him to demolish his dinner. True to her word, Hermione had placed a very subtle warming charm on his plate and so his roast was at an ideal temperature, rather than being at best tepid and at worst, almost unpalatable.

An hour later, Hermione walked out of the kitchen to find Severus waiting patiently for her. He stood almost as soon as she appeared and pulled the chair out for her to sit down so that they could have their 'talk.' He wasn't really looking forward to it, but realised that he'd just have to sit through it no matter how uncomfortable it became.

Hermione looked startled when he pulled the seat out for her, gracing him with a shy smile. Almost as soon as Severus had sat down himself, Hermione asked him if he wouldn't mind walking her home. She was tired and just wanted to get home, kick off her shoes and go to bed after such a physically and emotionally exhausting day.

Severus stood again almost immediately and held out his hand towards Hermione. Feeling herself flush thinking back on the events of that morning, she placed her right hand firmly into his left hand and enjoyed his warmth and the subtle pull as he tugged her up from the chair. Turning one last time towards the kitchen door, Hermione smiled and waved at Olwyn, then allowed Severus to guide her out the door. Once they were standing outside adjusting to the slight nip of early autumn, Severus stopped and looked blankly up and down the roadway in front of him.

"We have to go this way, Severus," Hermione said as she waved off towards her left. "If you want to go home, you can? I'll just Apparate from the alleyway instead. I really didn't realise just how late it was."

She was rambling and she knew it too. Mentally chastising herself from continuing to sprout tired drivel, Hermione looked carefully at Severus as if trying to gauge his reaction when he placed his first two fingers gently over her mouth and said, "I'd like to walk you home if you're not too tired, Hermione."

Nodding her head slightly, Hermione turned Severus around, without relinquishing hold of his hand and they started to walk together. Neither said anything initially, but Hermione knew she'd just stew when she got home if she let her annoyance simmer.

"You weren't really going to turn them into matching footstools were you, Severus?"

"Of course I was, though I did initially think that yapping little dogs would have been more appropriate. It would have been harder to explain though," he stated bluntly, the humour evident in his tone.

"They weren't bothering me that much at first, but they must have seen you come into the dining area and just couldn't resist upping the ante with their comments."

"They did seem to be enjoying themselves at your expense, Hermione. I've been thinking," Severus said as he stopped walking and turned towards Hermione. "I should pay for the meals they left behind, or perhaps more correctly ate and left without paying for."

"It's alright, Severus. Olwyn said they were a couple of cons. Apparently, they make it a habit to pick a restaurant and enjoy its offerings free of charge. Actually, Olwyn wanted to come out and thank you for seeing them off the premises, but I stopped her. I don't think she quite knows why I was so angry with you."

"I can see it might have been a bit of a problem if you'd tried to explain the concept of magic to her, " Severus said as he started to laugh. Sobering quickly at the look on Hermione's face, Severus started walking again and their conversation continued as they walked down the street.

"I don't know what made me do that, Hermione, but I found I couldn't just sit there and let them brutalise you for their own entertainment...and you can get that look off your face too. I played a part, a part that was necessary for a multitude of different reasons."

"How did you know what sort of look I had on my face, Severus?"

"I didn't. It was an educated guess given my previous statement. Those days are gone, Hermione; and I'd just as soon try to forget them if it's all the same to you."

"Agreed, Severus. I think we've come a fair way since those days...well, I'd like to think we have at any rate," Hermione said nervously.

"I think we have, Hermione. I doubt I would have been quite so civil, except for some of the extenuating circumstances of those last few weeks before Voldemort made his move."

"It still upsets me to think back to last year, but at the same time, I got to see you without all your masks in place. It was very illuminating, harrowing but illuminating at the same time.:

"It was the same for me, Hermione. I don't feel the pull to write like I did at that time, but I do look at my journal each day. It's difficult, but it's also cathartic in a way, to look back and recount how fortunate I am to be able to file those memories away...and perhaps create some new ones," Severus finished softly.

Hermione stopped, turned towards Severus and raised her right hand gently to his face. Softly, almost as though she feared he might jerk away from her, she laid her open hand against his upper cheek and moved her hand from near his left ear until she gently cradled his jaw in her hand. She could feel the twitching in his jaw and the surprised look in his eyes, but he didn't retreat as she had thought he would.

"I'd like that, Severus. I didn't really ever think I'd be in this position, but I would love to create some memories with you," Hermione said shakily, as she suddenly realised that Severus was moving his cheek slightly against her hand. Raising her left hand still encased in his right hand, Severus gently bent down and kissed her knuckles, then looked towards Hermione again. Clearing his throat, Severus leant towards Hermione and brushed his lips against hers in a tentative movement, before he moved back slightly to look directly into her eyes, as if gauging her reaction. Letting go of his hand, Hermione placed both of her hands on his shoulders and nudged him forwards until there was almost no discernible space between their faces. Severus breached the last of the gap, as he leant forward again to capture Hermione's lips. It was tentative still, but he could feel Hermione's fingers on his shoulders urging him forward. Severus continued to kiss Hermione all the while moving his hands to encompass Hermione and grasp her protectively around her upper back. Pulling back slightly, Severus changed the angle of his face slightly, gave Hermione an odd smile and before she could say anything, connected with her lips again, teasing her by altering the movement and pressure of his lips.

Neither was entirely sure when exploring each others lips became insufficient, but as their mouths opened, Hermione pulled Severus closer still and revelled in the sensations he was eliciting from her body. The sensation of flicking her tongue around his mouth, twining it with Severus' tongue and simply falling into the moment of absolute connection was making her warm, tingly and nervous all at the same time. All too soon, as though realising just where they were, Severus pulled back reluctantly from Hermione, though he continued to hold her close. He was breathing heavily, but it was the genuine smile gracing his face, that stole Hermione's breath away. Hermione raised her right hand to Severus' cheek again and made a surprised noise as he turned his head and kissed her palm gently. Smiling at him, Hermione stepped out of his embrace but nudged his right hand so that they were again holding hands.

Neither of them said anything as they started to walk down the footpath again, but they kept stealing looks and smiles at each other as they continued towards Hermione's house. Stopping a scant hundred metres further on, Hermione turned towards Severus, raised both her hands to his face and nudged him forward again as she kissed both corners of his mouth gently. Leaning up to his right ear, Hermione quietly said, "Thank you for giving me the first of many wonderful memories, Severus."

"It was entirely my pleasure, Severus stated in a soft voice, having cleared his throat once again."

"I usually have a cup of tea before I go to sleep, Severus. I...would you like to have some tea before you head home?" Hermione asked nervously avoiding looking in his face as she stepped away from him.

"Yes, Hermione, a cup of tea sounds fine...just a cup of tea," Severus answered knowingly. "It's alright, Hermione. This is all very new for me too and I rather think we've created enough memories for today and tonight, don't you?"

"Thank you for understanding, Severus. I...just...it's too soon, if that makes any sense at all?"

"It makes perfect sense, Hermione," Severus said quietly, all the while relieved that his lack of any real experience wasn't about to get paraded out quite so soon.

Watching Hermione undo the complicated wards surrounding her front door, Severus couldn't help thinking about the difference that this day had made to their understanding of each other. He knew they both had a long way to go before they really knew each other, but he'd not expected himself to be quite so disarmed by Hermione's kisses. It was something to think about on his own, but for now, he was just as happy to share some extra time with Hermione before he headed back to his flat. Walking in the door behind Hermione, Severus threw an amused look at Hermione's back as she lazily waved him towards the lounge room, stating that she just had to freshen up and put the kettle on.

Leaving Severus to fend for himself in the lounge, Hermione made her way rapidly up the stairs to her room. She felt it was a little too early in their relationship to tell him she was almost bursting and needed to use the loo. In fact, she wondered if there would ever be such a time that she would be quite so blasé as to tell him about some of her more personal bodily functions. Shrugging her shoulders to mentally clear the image of a startled Snape, Hermione stifled the urge to laugh, fearing the consequences if she relaxed, and headed directly for her bathroom. Once she'd finished the more urgent chore, Hermione stood in front of her mirror and was startled at how ruffled she seemed. Her lips were swollen, and the last vestige of her lipstick was ghosting the top of her chin. Her hair was the worst though and it looked like she'd been caught in a sudden gust of wind. Brushing her hair quickly and wiping off the last of the lipstick, Hermione took a deep breath, huffed it out forcefully and then headed downstairs to put the kettle on, have her cup of tea and see Severus out the door.

Hermione couldn't, however, stop the traitorous thoughts of what it would be like to not see him out the door, but wake up holding him in the morning. It really was too soon to answer that question, but Hermione couldn't help flushing at the prospect of it all the same.

Severus meanwhile had walked into the lounge room, sat down in one of the armchairs, crossed and uncrossed his legs several times, before he gave it up as a lost cause and went in search of the kitchen. Spying the kettle sitting near the sink, Severus spent several frustrating moments searching for the elusive button or switch he knew would power the Muggle device. Having managed to turn on the kettle, after first checking the water level, Severus then started to look through some of the cupboards, searching for both tea leaves and mugs. Unaware of Hermione watching him, Severus ran his right hand through his hair irritably and swore under his breath. The quiet snort behind him made him wheel around quickly, all the while drawing his wand. Seeing Hermione behind him with a startled look on her face, Severus replaced his wand up his charmed sleeve, before he stepped towards her. Hermione tried to apologise for startling him, but it just seemed to come out as a series of stuttered half words. Gathering her wits, Hermione could see Severus reigning in his formidable temper.

Before he had a chance to say anything, Hermione stepped forward and said, "I'm so sorry about that, but I couldn't help myself watching you as you tried to figure out just where everything was."

"You did surprise me, Hermione. I suppose I'm not used to the idea that I don't have to worry quite so much about who or what might be lying in wait for me. It's obviously something I'm going to have to work on."

"No, it's my fault, Severus. I was just wool gathering. I came downstairs and couldn't see you, then I heard the noise coming from here and so I just stood and watched you trying to work out where things were in a strange kitchen."

Severus nodded his head once quickly, and then stepped out of Hermione's way. Though the request was unspoken, Hermione knew he'd mull over his actions if she didn't set out the pot, mugs and tea quickly. His moods and the rapidity with which he changed them were going to take some getting used to she decided, then she mentally slapped herself for thinking that his moods weren't actually somewhat endearing, particularly if she wasn't on the receiving end of some of his darker moments.

Walking past Severus, Hermione reached up to open the cupboard near his right ear. Fishing out the tea caddy and mugs, Hermione shakily put them onto the counter. Severus, seeing her shaking hand, moved from his position leaning against the bench until he was standing directly behind Hermione.

"You're shaking, Hermione."

"No I'm not...oh, alright, maybe a little bit."

"Do I scare you? I mean, did I scare you that much?" Severus asked, all the while distancing himself from the woman in front of him.

"No, Severus, you're not scaring me. I'm nervous...and a little out of my depth," Hermione said shakily as she turned her head slightly to look at him.

"I don't understand, Hermione."

"It's alright, Severus. I'm not too sure I understand it either. I...just...well, it's all so new and exciting, and terrifying. I'm making a hash of this. What I suppose I should be saying is, I don't know what to do...or how to do it."

"I'm hardly an expert either, Hermione. I tend to think this is one of those occasions where we just have to muddle our way through it like everyone else," Severus said in a quiet voice, all the while edging closer to Hermione again. He was, in truth, rather nervous about it all himself. The stress of the day, the discovery, the flutter of nerves and his own lack of definitive experience in how to deal with them, all gathering to create havoc over his own emotions. It was actually helpful to know that Hermione was feeling the same way about it all.

"I don't think I could imagine you 'muddling' your way through anything, Severus. You don't seem like the muddling type," Hermione said, a smile evident in her voice.

"I'll take that as a compliment...I think. Come on Hermione, come and sit down."

"No, it's okay, Severus. I rather think if I let go of the cupboard handle I'll fall over...and that's hardly romantic."

"Well, perhaps I should hold you there – just so that we're both supporting each other?" Severus said the question evident in his voice.

"I think I'd like that, Severus," Hermione said quietly as she rested her forehead on the cool wood of the cupboard in front of her. It was an odd movement, not quite a resigned motion, but more a chance to try and centre herself and stop the flood of blush she was sure was trying to burn its way through her skin.

Severus came up behind Hermione gently, almost as though he was trying to stop a skittish animal from fleeing, placed his hands gently on her shoulders and leant towards her - allowing the front of his body to brush her back very lightly.

"Is this alright, Hermione?" Severus asked in a hushed voice, not even aware that his hands had started kneading her tense shoulders.

"It feels divine, Severus. I had no idea I was so tense, though if I think about it logically, I suppose it would make sense...in a roundabout sort of way."

"Do you want me to stop?" Severus asked tentatively. It seemed an alien tone of voice even to himself.

"Do you want to stop?"

"Only, if you want me to, Hermione."

"No, Severus, don't stop. It really does feel divine," Hermione said as she lifted her head away from the cupboard, grasped the bench top and gently leant back towards Severus.

Severus, sensing her movement, went to step back, but he stopped almost as soon as he started to shift, when Hermione's voice rose slightly above the methodically ticking of the old clock to his left.

"Please don't move. I like the feeling of having you close. It's...comforting to know I'm not the only one who is shaking."

Severus double checked himself, unaware of his own tremor, then decided to push just a little more. Leaning towards Hermione's left ear, all the while pushing her hair out of the way with his chin, he leaned in closer and said, "my dear, Hermione, not all of my shaking is nerves. Would you flee in terror of me if I said I was...aroused by the chance to get so close to you?" Severus crooned softly towards her ear, then leant forward and brushed the skin of her neck with a light kiss, full of promise.

Hermione squeaked in surprise, and then weighed her options. How was she supposed to answer his question, and if she did answer it, what would be his reaction? In the end, Hermione decided that the truth; unvarnished, was perhaps the best answer she could give.

"Well, it's nice to know I'm not the only one who's aroused, Severus," Hermione replied nervously, with more bravado than she felt. Turning her head slightly to her left, Hermione looked at Severus so that she could make eye contact with him as she said it.

Severus let out a shaky breath, gave Hermione a wry smile and then started to move his hands from her shoulders, down her upper arms, until he let go of her completely. Hermione startled, wondering if he was going to draw away fully, when she felt his arms move to circle her just above her waist, his hands and fingers splayed so that she could feel the tops of his fingers resting just under her breasts. Leaning back fully into Severus, partly of her own volition, but also because his hands were gently nudging her to relax into him, they stayed that way for an unknown amount of time...just simply connecting.

Hermione could feel the warmth of his hands through the linen of her blouse, the strength and slight movement of his fingers as the adjusted themselves to the contours of her body. He'd placed his chin back onto her left shoulder at some point, though Hermione was too busy concentrating on the rush of sensation and arousal running riot through her body. It was warm, enticing and astonishingly intimate, and neither of them seemed willing to break the peace of the moment and move out of each other's embrace.

The whistle of the kettle snapped both of them out of the moment. Severus let go of Hermione quickly as he turned and spied the offending object making a hellish amount of noise. He had to stifle the urge to hex it into a multitude of pieces, but the mutinous look on his face had obviously been enough for Hermione to start laughing at his supposed expression.

Turning from the kettle that seemed to be determined to announce it readiness, Severus pinned Hermione with an equally fierce glare and stepped further away from her. Hermione, having seen his look and him distancing himself, tried to control her laughter...unsuccessfully. Stepping towards Severus, Hermione brokenly tried to explain the reason for her mirth, but she was cut off as Severus held up his left hand abruptly.

"I do not like being laughed at, particularly over something so asinine, Hermione," Severus said acidly.

Hermione checked herself again, stepped up to him deliberately blocking his way out of the kitchen and said, "I'm not laughing at you...you fool. With everything else that's gone on today, I would never laugh at you. I'm laughing at the bloody stupid timing of a bloody stupid kettle," Hermione stated in an annoyed tone.

"If I was laughing at something you'd done, Severus, I would hope you'd be laughing right along with me, not chastising me for seeing the humour in the thing. It's an automatic kettle – it turns itself off after a while."

"So, you aren't laughing at me, but at the kettle?"

"Of course I am. Severus. I never laughed at some of the things said about you at school, so I'm hardly likely to reverse the trend now, am I?"

"No, I suppose not," Severus said grudgingly, watching as Hermione moved to shut off the noise of the machine behind him.

"We have to trust each other, Severus," Hermione said wearily as she stepped out of the doorway, fidgeting with her hands. "I'm new at all of this...whatever this is, so I'm not likely to deliberately hurt you. I...I just hope it works the same way in reverse, I suppose."

"It does...I think. It's all a bit too new for me as well, but I do have a temper and I can't help that."

"I'm not asking you to change, Severus. I'm asking you to trust me when I tell you that I would never deliberately hurt you...or laugh at you for that matter."

"I think I can do that, though you might just have to remind me of that fact if I stray and exhibit some old habits."

"Don't worry, Severus, I will. You can bet on it," Hermione said in a determined voice, though her smile ruined the effect of gruffness.

"I don't think I feel much like tea just now, Severus. I'm so tired and it's be such a tumultuous day, that I think I'd just as soon go to bed. I mean...go to bed alone," Hermione finished quickly as Severus lifted his head and looked at her quickly.

Hermione had turned to stop Severus seeing her embarrassment so that she faced the cupboards again. Severus came up behind her gently, not touching and said, "I think it's time I said my goodbyes. I can honestly say that you're not the only one who is completely exhausted by this whole day. Good exhausted, I'll grant you, but exhausted nonetheless."

Hermione turned then to face Severus and flashed him a smile lit with promises.

"Thank you, Severus...for understanding," Hermione said gently, all the while grasping his left hand as she tugged him towards the lounge room and the front door.

Once they'd reached the door, Hermione turned to Severus again, raised her hands to his face and together they met somewhere in the middle. It was a kiss full of longings, of hope and of the new direction opening up in front of them. Pulling back from Hermione after an indeterminate period of time, Severus gently kissed Hermione on her forehead, stepped out of her embrace and opened the door before he returned and couldn't stop himself from taking things further.

Hermione graced him with a tired smile that lit up her whole face, stepped out of his way and watched as he started to walk down the street to find the nearest quiet spot so that he could Apparate. Once she couldn't see him in the twilight, Hermione closed the door and laid her head against the solid wood lest she let go and her legs fail to support her. Walking gingerly through the hallway and up the stairs, Hermione knew she was smiling broadly, though she wondered just how she was possibly going to sleep.

Tomorrow would definitely be interesting once they were back on campus.

**All constructive criticism, comments and reviews are heartily welcome:)**


	13. The Last Secret Part I

The Last Secret

Tuesday 5th September 1999

Hogwarts...

They say that age creeps up on you in such a way that you never quite realise you've reached near the end of the road, until it is well upon you. Albus knew full well that he was not as young as he had been; his creaking joints on a cold morning bore testament to that fact. It was the little things, noticed by others but ignored by him, or forgotten, that gave Minerva cause for concern. Albus, dismissed it as her 'mothering' him and it was the source of more than one argument lately between the pair of them. Albus had escaped this very morning from their rooms, using the excuse that he needed to update the student register, but both of them knew it was more of a tactical retreat to prevent another argument. He hadn't slept well, he never did when they argued, but his joints had ached when he'd eventually pulled himself from under the warm eiderdown quilt. Albus would have liked nothing more than to burrow back under the warm covers and pretend that it wasn't a school day. 'Mother' Minerva would have found another reason to nag him into anger, of that he was sure. And so it was that Albus, with a roaring fire and Fawkes off somewhere; hiding he thought, sat at his parchment strewn desk and began to sift through the names of children who would be eligible to receive a Hogwarts letter next year. It wasn't strictly necessary for him to start addressing letters so early in the current school year, but though Albus chose to ignore the less palatable indications that he was declining, it was never too early to clear his desk. He wasn't so blinkered that he didn't realise that if he left everything until January, it would be so much harder to get his hands to unfurl long enough to hold a quill, particularly in the harsh Scottish winter, when everything took so much longer to warm.

Signing his name on the last of the parchments, with his full signature, Albus cursed under his breath as he re-read one of the letters, crumpled the stack in front of him and stalked from his office.

'Of all the useless, asinine things to do, you stupid old fool!'

A morning wasted, with his joints protesting every step of the way, Albus roundly savaged his own stupidity. He knew he hadn't slept well – surely that was the reason for doing something so...so – but more than anything, it was another sign that Minerva might actually be right, not that he'd tell her of course. She'd been suggesting a holiday, some time away, but Albus had been steadfastly refusing to consider it. The last thing he needed was the Board of Governors to think he wasn't up to the job any more, and replace him. Whilst working himself into a grave wasn't on his agenda either, admitting he was getting old was as likely as him kissing a manticore on the arse. No, he'd just have to get rid of the evidence before 'mother' Minerva caught wind of it and suggest he was having a quiet read this morning, rather anything school orientated. Walking with more purpose, Albus started to head down the myriad of staircases on his way to the Great Hall for lunch. He could hear some students moving around, and gave a wry grin, thinking they must have skipped at least one of their morning classes. Spying two very guilty looking second years stuck on one of the moving staircases, Albus called out to them and met up with them on the next landing. Scuffing their feet, the two boys looked everywhere but towards Albus, and so he decided to take pity on them. After all, he had at one time skived off more than a few classes himself. Pulling out a crumpled paper bag, Albus offered the boys a fruit sherbet and let them scurry off as soon as the staircase obliged and came to their landing, without reprimanding them at all. Smiling to himself, Albus continued on his way towards the Great Hall, meeting up with Minerva as he neared the bottom of the stairs.

"You're in a better mood, Albus."

"Yes, I suppose I am, Minerva. I just caught young Messrs Gregory and Small near the statue of Aethelred the Unready."

"Weren't the pair of them supposed to be in class this morning? Actually, they should have been in History of Magic, if I'm not mistaken."

"True, true, but it's such a lovely morning, that the pair of them obviously forgot the time. I found them stuck on the staircase, so I've no idea how long they'd been stranded," Albus said with an air of feigned innocence.

"You let them off, didn't you Albus? They'll do it again now that they know you're such a soft touch. How am I supposed to discipline them now if you keep undermining my authority over my Gryffindors?"

"Oh, leave off! They weren't doing anything you or I didn't do when we were their age. It's hardly the end of the world if they think they've managed to avoid a boring class," Albus said testily as he huffed and walked quickly ahead of Minerva and into the Great Hall. Albus refused to slow down even when Minerva called out to him in a pained voice, and he certainly wouldn't give her the satisfaction of rubbing the swollen joints on his right hand in case she could see.

Sitting at high table, Albus spared a wink to the two young Gryffindors, then sighed as he picked up his warm mug of soup and cradled it in his sore hands. Minerva said nothing, seated as she was beside him, but kept looking worriedly at him every so often. If any of the other staff at the table were aware of the tension between the Headmaster and his deputy, they knew better than to draw the students' attention to it. Far better to just have a quiet lunch before the bedlam of afternoon classes and bored students looking to be anywhere other than class. As she stood to head for her Advanced Transfiguration classes with the combined seventh years, Minerva reached over briefly and squeezed Albus' forearm, said nothing and left him to his brooding.

As she walked away, Minerva wiped a tear from her eye, lest any of the students see it and wonder about its cause. She was heartily sick of always fighting with him and though she knew Albus didn't want to be reminded that he was getting old, she found she couldn't just keep ignoring the change in him over the last year. She'd confided to no one about her worries, but bottled it all up inside in the hope that she was worrying over nothing. Albus probably wasn't even aware of it, but he had been limping for over two weeks. Poppy Pomfrey had mentioned it to her one day, but Minerva had been so focused on other more subtle changes that she hadn't noticed something so obvious. Poppy had given her some tincture and a potion to ease the arthritic symptoms, but Minerva was reasonably sure that both of them had been flushed down the lav, rather than taken as he'd been instructed to do. Huffing in annoyance, Minerva stopped dawdling and picked up the pace, lest she be late for her own class. As she opened the door to her classroom, one steely look was sufficient to quell the students into silence, and she began her two hour practical lecture without prevarication. She couldn't, however, still the worry in her own mind, much though she wanted to.

Albus had sat at High table for far longer than he had intended to, but he was loath to move too quickly and the pain in his joints was far worse today than he ever remembered it being. Having nothing to do this afternoon, Albus decided to retire to his rooms and have a kip to see if he could still the growing pain. Rising gingerly from the table, his right knee gave an audible crack, causing him to grimace at the jolt of pain. His left shoulder was also troubling him, and he rotated it carefully, but still couldn't get the pain to recede. Moving slowly, Albus walked down from high table and across the hall, brushing his hand absently over one of the sturdy oak tables as he left. Albus was all too aware that if he couldn't still the pain with a rest, he would be forced to go and see Poppy, and it wasn't a prospect he was looking forward to. He also knew absolutely that Minerva would force him to slow down, and there was still so much he wanted to do. After a painfully slow journey, Albus hobbled across the sitting room and straight into the bedroom. The quilt was folded down and the House Elves had started a fire, though how they knew he would detour from his office to his bed he didn't know. Too tired to do much more than toe off his boots and remove his outer robe, Albus fell into a fitful sleep, full of wonderful memories, where the only impediment to him doing anything was his own imagination.

Albus didn't make it to dinner.

Minerva was both equally annoyed and worried about Albus when he was not sitting in his customary chair at dinner, and it didn't help that she had to listen to the wild conjecture about his absence floating up from the student tables. After a quick dinner, though not so fast as to add to the wild speculation she could hear from some of the students, Minerva decided to stop at his office in case he'd forgotten the time and was engrossed in a problem or a book. Stopping at the gargoyle, Minerva said the password, ignoring the gargoyle as he told her in no uncertain terms that Albus was not in residence, and found herself facing an empty desk with at least a dozen crumpled parchments scattered across the top. Smoothing one out, Minerva sighed as she understood just why Albus had discarded them so carelessly. It was one more sign that he needed a rest, and she could not ever remember him forgetting to sign his full name. Not adding 'Brian' into his signature had nullified the magic of an entire morning's work. No wonder he'd been so irritable at lunch. Dropping the parchment onto the desk, Minerva turned swiftly and left the office, heading for their rooms. Hoping she was wrong to worry and chiding herself not to annoy him by asking if he was all right, Minerva entered their darkened rooms and headed straight across the sitting room to their bedroom. Cracking the door open, and casting a discreet i Lumos /i in the darkened room, Minerva saw Albus asleep, a small smile gracing his features. Letting out the breath she'd been holding in, Minerva closed the door gently, then went back into the sitting room and decided to make herself a cup of tea before she faced the essays she needed to return to her students in the morning.

Minerva had forgotten the time, until the clock on the mantle struck ten o'clock. Albus still hadn't risen as far as she knew, though she wouldn't be at all surprised to open the door and find him engrossed in a book or one of those silly muggle puzzles that some of his ex-students enjoyed sending him. Setting the students' parchments aside, Minerva stood up and pulled her wand from her sleeve. Moving across the room, she cast a quiet "Nox," just before she opened the bedroom door. She was hoping he wouldn't feign sleep as they both needed to talk and clear the air before they began a new day with another argument unresolved.

As far as Minerva could tell, Albus hadn't moved and he still had a small mischievous smile on his face. He looked utterly at peace, but it worried her all the more that he hadn't appeared to have moved for well over three hours. Casting a hurried Lumos, Minerva moved to the right side of the bed and reached out to touch Albus gently on his left hand. When he didn't move, Minerva shook him on the shoulder, and then backed away with a gasp and Flooed Poppy. Poppy arrived quickly, though Minerva was still standing in front of the fire and Poppy had to call out for her to move so that she could come through. In a daze, Minerva stepped back, and then turned to face the bed with an anguished look. It was shock, yes, that's what it was. After all, he'd wake up shortly and call her i 'mother Minerva' /i again, and then she'd get the huffs and hear him laugh at her indignation.

Except that he couldn't.

Poppy was saying something to a House Elf; Dobby, yes, she thought it was Dobby, and in the next moment, Minerva saw a stretcher hovering beside the bed. She knew Poppy was saying something, but she had no idea what it was, until Poppy laid her hand around her shoulders and she started crying, shoulders shaking to match the rest of her. Poppy spoke to her gently, and then tugged her in the direction of the Floo, never removing her arm from around her shoulders. The next thing Minerva realised was that she was in a comfortable armchair pulled up beside a bed with Albus lying peacefully and blissfully unaware of the commotion around him. Minerva watched Poppy bustling around the bed, muttering to herself as she ran her wand over Albus. She frowned every so often, and then changed the inflection of her charms and hovered for a long time over Albus' torso and head.

Sighing softly, Poppy placed her wand back into her sleeve, then moved around the bed to stand next to Minerva.

"Minerva?"

"Yes, Poppy."

"Has he been complaining of any pain lately?"

"No...no, he hasn't. Well, nothing more than his usual joint pain, but nothing else. Why, what's wrong with him?"

"He's had a very large cerebral vascular...he's had a stroke, Minerva. As far as I can tell, he's unconscious and I don't think he'll recover."

Raising her hand gently in front of Minerva to still whatever she'd been about to say, Poppy continued, "I can't tell you how long he has, but I do know that the damage is extensive. I've done everything I can to halt the damage, but I think he's been hiding some of the more obvious symptoms for a while. He's got some damage to his heart as well, but I can't tell if it's related to the stroke, or merely something else to worry about."

"But, but...he's just been tired lately. I've tried to get him to slow down, but he just gets the huffs and it's caused more than a few arguments. How...how long do you think he has, Poppy?"

"Well, it's hard to tell, but I would think he hasn't more than a few days at best. He could go suddenly, but as I've managed to halt the spread of the damage...a few days perhaps...I'm sorry, Minerva, I can't be any more specific than that."

"Oh, Albus..." Minerva couldn't say any more than that. Standing unsteadily next to his bed, Minerva bent down and kissed him on his cheek before she backed shakily into the armchair and dissolved into tears.

Poppy gently squeezed her shoulder, and then left Minerva alone to spend some time with Albus without any interference. An hour later, Poppy came back around the screens and handed Minerva a mug of camomile tea and toyed with a vial of Dreamless Sleep.

"Sorry, Poppy, what were you saying?"

"Nothing of consequence, Minerva. I was asking you if you'd like me to put another bed in here tonight so that you could be here if anything happens."

"Oh, thank you, that would be...I'd be grateful," Minerva said after a pause. "I'll have to let people know what's happened though. There are people who'll want to see him before he...well, before."

"That can wait until the morning, Minerva. You need to rest, or you won't be of any use to anyone, yourself included."

"I haven't got time to rest. I need to contact Harry, Hermione...and well; everyone...and I need to find Severus. He'd never forgive me if I didn't let him know. Hermione will know where he is. At least I think she will."

"Why would Miss Granger know where Severus is, Minerva?"

"Oh, of course, you don't know," Minerva said absently.

"Know what?"

"They're doing some muggle course together. I haven't laughed so much in ages at the thought of Severus stuck doing a course with one of his students. Hermione called it 'divine retribution' , whatever that means. Hermione was telling me about it when we went out to dinner a few weeks ago. I'll have to owl her and find out where Severus is. I'll do that now."

"It can wait until later in the morning, Minerva. It's just after one o'clock, so by my reckoning, you should be able to get at least six hours sleep before you have to worry about who should be contacting. I give you my word, Minerva, I'll sit with Albus and if anything happens, I'll wake you immediately. Now, no arguments. Have your tea before it gets too cold whilst I move another bed behind the screen."

Minerva reached over and grabbed Poppy's hand suddenly as she waved her wand towards one of the beds. Poppy turned with an inquisitive look, but before she could say anything, Minerva simply said, "thank you, Poppy...for everything."

Nodding once, Poppy helped Minerva stand and guided her to the other side of the bed where she'd increased the width of the screens to shroud the pair of them from any inquisitive students that might need her during the night. Dousing the lights in the infirmary once Minerva had changed and climbed under the covers of the hastily moved bed, Poppy returned to the armchair and continued her vigil, watching over Albus until just after dawn when she heard Minerva move.

Minerva was up and out of bed, padding across the cold stone floor in bare feet before Poppy could assure her that his condition was unchanged. Scolding Minerva, Poppy let her stay near Albus' side to allay her fears that he hadn't died alone in the middle of the night. After she'd checked on him, Minerva let Poppy guide her back to bed and fuss over her as she called a House Elf to bring the Deputy Headmistress an early breakfast. Once she'd finished her breakfast, Poppy let her out of bed to shower and change before she faced the rigours of letting people know what had happened to Albus. Minerva wasn't looking forward to trying to convince Severus to return to the school, but she also knew that Severus would arrive as soon as he possibly could, once he knew how serious Albus' condition was. Back once more in 'her' armchair next to Albus, Minerva sighed and started to write on the parchment that Poppy had thoughtfully placed on a small desk in front of her. Poppy has also let her know that Filius was aware of what was happening, and that her classes had been cancelled for the day.

Poppy had also enlisted several of the faster school owls to be waiting for Minerva to finish each letter. Minerva's first letter had been to Severus. It had been short, to the point and though she hadn't begged him to come, she knew that asking him to come immediately was almost the same. Sealing the parchment, Minerva looked up to see Fawkes with his leg extended waiting for the parchment. Minerva would have never asked Fawkes to act as a messenger, but realised almost immediately that he was likely the only messenger that might be able to find Severus without Minerva having to involve Hermione. Rolling the letter, Minerva placed it in a scroll pouch, and then tied it to Fawkes' leg, before giving him one final task if he managed to find Severus.

"Please don't leave him, Fawkes, until he has an answer for me."

Bobbing his head, Fawkes trilled sadly then flew out the window Minerva had opened for him.

Wednesday 6th September, 1999

London...

Severus had not expected to sleep quite as well as he had. He could count on one hand how many times he'd woken as well rested as he had this morning. He'd even slept in, though seven o'clock in the morning was hardly a late start for most people. Having showered and sat down to tea and toast, Severus had plenty of time to think about the previous evening with Hermione. He hadn't meant to hex the muggles who'd been annoying her at work, but he had, and they'd deserved it too. She'd been angry with him, very angry, but had still agreed to allow him to walk her home. He would never have expected the kiss, or the tentative change of their friendship to something potentially much deeper. It was all so new and fraught with so many different possibilities, that he couldn't be quite sure it wasn't some delicious dream and that Hermione would regret the night before. Somehow, he didn't think she would, but it was still worrying him and he wouldn't know how she would react until he saw her this morning at their lecture.

He was still amazed at the level of arousal Hermione had managed to elicit from him by just exploring his hands. He'd tried so hard not to make it obvious, but it wasn't until he had had the chance to touch Hermione's hands that she understood why he'd been moving so restlessly in his chair. Savouring the look on her face when he'd managed to cause her reaction and blush brought a smirk to his face and he was so lost in thought, he didn't hear the urgent tapping on his window. Looking up with a scowl at having his thoughts interrupted, Severus saw Fawkes' beak biting into the wood of the window frame. He looked panicked and it was something Severus had never seen before. Standing and moving swiftly over to the window, Severus unlatched the window and opened it fully so that Fawkes could fly in. Once perched on the back of the chair that Severus had just vacated, Fawkes didn't look up at Severus, but pecked furiously at the scroll case attached to his leg. Sensing his distress, Severus reached for the case, only to be pecked on the back of his right hand. Withdrawing his hand quickly, he swore loudly. Severus had to call Fawkes several times, before he stopped pecking, and Severus couldn't ever recall having seen Fawkes so agitated. Putting his leg forward, Fawkes let Severus remove the scroll pouch, and then bobbed up and down and side to side continually as Severus read the letter from Minerva. Severus didn't stop to think how Fawkes had found him, but he was grateful that he had. He could feel the colour draining from his face as Minerva outlined just how gravely ill Albus was. Sitting heavily on the edge of the chair, Severus looked up at Fawkes and understood immediately why he was so distressed. Standing, Severus looked for a scrap of parchment, scribbled a hasty message, stuffed in carelessly into the scroll pouch, and thanked Fawkes for finding him as he tied his message onto his leg. Slumping in his chair, Minerva's letter still clasped in his right hand, Severus wasn't aware that Fawkes had left until he looked up to send Fawkes back to Hogwarts, only to discover that he had already left through the still open window. Scrubbing his face with his hands, Severus stood quickly, went into his bedroom and packed a small case. Shrinking it before tucking it into his pocket, Severus stowed his wand, and concentrated on Apparating to the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Hermione stretched in bed, not wanting to waken fully after such a wonderful evening and the hazy edge of a rather delicious dream she still remembered. She couldn't help the broad smile or the squeal of pleasure at the thought of seeing Severus on campus this morning. Aware that it was nearly eight o'clock and that the lecture started at ten, Hermione threw the covers off, jumped out of bed and headed towards the bathroom. After she'd showered, she spent ages working out what to wear, chiding herself in retrospect for lampooning Lavender and Parvati when they had done the same thing morning after morning at school. Hermione assured herself that this was different, even though it was a weak argument. She finally decided on her initial choice of jeans, a blouse, trainers and a navy wool jacket reduced and stowed into her backpack in case it got cool later. Stomach growling, Hermione decided it was better for her to be a bit late, rather than hungry, and so she grabbed her backpack, and went downstairs to have some breakfast before she left for the university. Stopping in the doorway of the kitchen, Hermione looked over at the shelves where she'd rested her head the night before when Severus had stood behind her. With a shiver of pleasure, she walked over to the kettle to switch it on. That task accomplished, Hermione found herself remembering the previous night in exquisite detail. She couldn't wait to see Severus this morning and pick up where they left off last night. Hermione knew she wasn't ready to invite Severus to stay for the night, but she was more excited at the prospect of it happening at some stage in the future, rather than frightened of everything their relationship might entail.

Standing near the sink, Hermione leant on it with her hip, sipped her tea and ate her toast quickly. Hearing the grandfather clock strike a half past nine in the lounge room, Hermione stopped daydreaming, washed her plate and mug in the sink, ran her hands through her hair in one more attempt to iron out some of the knots, and then picked up her backpack before she opened the front door and started to walk to the laneway nearby so that she could Apparate to the quiet corridor in the building closest the university cafe.

Arriving unseen, Hermione walked out of the Social Sciences building, and hurried to the cafe just in case Severus was waiting there for her. Looking around quickly, she couldn't see him, so Hermione turned her attention to getting to the lecture on time. They hadn't arranged to meet each other beforehand, and so Hermione assumed she'd find Severus perched at the back of the lecture theatre waiting for her to arrive. Her shoulders slumped once the lecture started and she realised that he wasn't coming. Forcing herself to concentrate, rather than think of various ways to hex him for being too callous to see her after the previous evening, Hermione copied her notes and left as soon as she could through the crush of students. Fighting back tears, Hermione made her way to a secluded spot so that she could Apparate home as soon as possible. Casting a quick charm to check for any loitering muggles, Hermione Apparated again to the laneway a block from her house, walked home briskly, and burst into tears as soon as she had shut the front door behind her. Sensing she wasn't alone, Hermione looked up to see Minerva rising from the lounge, red rimmed eyes, hands shaking and not saying anything.

"Minerva, what are you doing here? What's happened?" Hermione asked hurriedly as she ran the back of her arm across her face to dry her tears.

"Hermione," Minerva croaked, "it's Albus, Hermione. I've come because of Albus."

"What's happened? What's wrong with the Headmaster?"

"He's dying, Hermione, that's why I'm here. I've come to bring you to Hogwarts...to see him before..." Minerva trailed off as the enormity of what she'd said dawned on Hermione.

"That's why Severus wasn't..."

"Wasn't where he should have been this morning, Hermione?"

"Yes. Have you heard from him? Does he know?"

"He does, and don't think I didn't give him a piece of my mind for not letting you know before he turned up at Hogwarts at eight o'clock in the morning."

Hermione laughed nervously, then went over to Minerva and walked into her open arms. Hugging each other, it was some time before Minerva stepped back and gave Hermione a shrewd look.

"So, Hermione, is there something you'd like to tell me about you and 'Severus?' I know of only a handful of students that he's ever allowed to call him by his given name."

"Well, we're doing a course together...and it would have been silly to call him professor. Severus is his name after all."

"Hmmm," Minerva took another long look at Hermione, and then sat down in the nearest chair, suddenly exhausted.

Hermione could feel the blush rising on her face, but contented herself with sitting opposite Minerva, waiting for her to speak.

Eventually she did, though Hermione could hear the exhaustion and fatigue in her voice.

"Hermione, I'm here to bring you back to Hogwarts. Albus...he hasn't got long. Poppy can't give me a definitive timeframe, but he's unconscious and it isn't...he isn't going to..."

"Oh, Minerva, of course I'll come back with you. Just let me get a few things and I'll be back done in a minute. Would you like me to make you a cuppa while you wait?"

"Thank you, no. I've had enough tea in the last few hours to last me for weeks. I just want to get back to Albus, but I wanted to come and tell you myself. If it's any consolation, Severus was so upset when he arrived that he didn't ask about you until I asked if you'd be home this morning."

"Oh, Minerva. Is he all right?"

"No, but it was rather more interesting that he was more worried about you once I spoke to him. Now, go and pack your bag and we'll talk about it later."

If Hermione was unsure of the depth of her blush before, Minerva's half hearted laugh and curious look was all the answer she needed. Talk indeed!

Hermione wasn't sure exactly what she had packed, but she'd raced upstairs and grabbed whatever came to hand, shrank it all and stuffed it hurriedly into her backpack. Heading back downstairs, she stopped when she'd nearly reached the bottom of the stairs to give Minerva a few minutes to wipe her eyes and blow her nose. Walking over to Minerva, Hermione hugged her again and then drew her wand to open the Floo network on the fireplace. That accomplished, Minerva moved over to the fireplace, started a quick fire with her wand and reached for the pot of Floo powder Hermione was holding in her hand. Calling out, "Hogwarts infirmary," Minerva looked back at Hermione and stepped into the fireplace. Hermione followed soon after and found herself reaching out to steady herself from the dizzying whirl. It wasn't until she felt sure she wasn't going to fall over that she opened her eyes and realised she had reached out and clasped Severus on his forearm. Looking at her hesitantly, Severus nodded his head slightly, almost asking if she was all right, then withdrew his arm once he was sure Hermione wasn't going to fall over. Hermione looked around Severus and gasped at the sight of the Headmaster, the faint smile still evident on his face. Severus put his arm out to gently graze her back, and then nudged her forward towards the bed.

Minerva had resumed her seat next to Albus' bed, but she looked around when Hermione gasped and raised an eyebrow at Severus' obvious care for her. 'Definitely something to talk about later on' , she thought to herself. There were, however, other trials to get through first, though Minerva had been wondering for a while why Albus still had a small smile on his face. She liked to think that maybe, just maybe, he'd had a chance to see how well the two of them regarded each other. It was one more thing she'd never get the chance to ask him, and though she would have given almost anything to be able to talk to him one last time, Minerva recognised that this would be a far less painful death than it might have been under other circumstances. Sighing at her maudlin train of thoughts, Minerva looked over again towards Hermione and Severus as they talked quietly near the fireplace. Severus had yet to spend any time with Albus and Minerva had also found a parchment addressed to both Severus and Hermione sitting on the bed table next to Albus when she'd finished sending off her own correspondence.

Standing slowly, so as not to startle the two of them, Minerva walked over to Severus and tapped him gently on the back.

"Minerva, my apologies, I didn't want to disturb your time with Albus."

"It's all right, Severus. I found this letter addressed to you this morning. I think Albus would like you to sit here for a while and read it. You're welcome to sit in my chair. Hermione and I have a few things to catch up on."

"I...you should be here, Minerva, I don't want to intrude. You should be here with him."

"Severus," Minerva sighed, "I've said my goodbyes already, but that doesn't mean that you shouldn't spend some time with him. Poppy has told me that we should talk to him as though he can hear us, because as she understands it, he probably can hear...he just can't respond. You need this time, Severus. Hermione and I will be in our quarters. You're welcome to join us there after you've read your letter. Hermione has her own letter and I'd like to be there when she reads it...in case she has any questions for me."

Severus cleared his throat, but before he could say anything, Minerva laid her hand on his arm and squeezed it gently. Minerva said nothing, just walked over to where Hermione was standing next to the fireplace, put her arm around her shoulder and they both Flooed together to the quarters she and Albus had shared for so many years.

Once comfortably settled in the sitting room, with a steaming mug of cocoa each and some sandwiches in front of them, Minerva suggested gently that Hermione should open her letter now. Putting her mug down, Hermione gently eased the envelope open, so as not to damage Albus' seal, and then started reading the letter he addressed to her. Minerva had an inkling of the contents of the letter, but Albus had advised her; in her own letter, not to tell either Severus or Hermione the most startling piece of information they would soon be reading.

My dearest Miss Granger,

If you're reading this letter, then I can only assume it is because the caveat placed on the distribution of this information cannot be given to you by me personally. I had hoped to see you, to tell you a little more about why you were chosen to receive your very special diary. I know it worried you at the time, even though I dismissed your concerns without telling you how I was so sure that it was nothing to worry about, but bear with me and I'll try to explain it all.

It's an interesting story, Hermione, one that your curious mind will revel in, but it's also a secret you must swear to protect for the rest of your life. After you've finished reading what follows, I would ask that you allow Minerva to read it before you touch your wand to my sigil at the bottom of the page. As soon as you do so, this letter will disappear to reside in a special repository. Don't worry, no one but you and any other living keys can know of its contents. As it stands, that means you, Minerva and Severus.

I do wish I could be there to see you one more time and find out just what you managed to do to make Severus thaw quite so much. Don't look so surprised, Hermione. I have hoped for many years that he would find someone who challenged him, and who liked him simply for who he is, not some perception of how he should be. I'm not at liberty to tell you how I know about the pair of you, though perhaps your journal may provide the necessary clues. I haven't read it, if that's what you're thinking, but by the end of this rambling note, you might have a better idea of how I know.

May you both have many long years to discover the joy of each other, as Minerva and I have had. I know you're probably quite shocked about this, but there really is no need to hide it away. Severus would argue that hiding is something he does too well, but don't ever discard his regard for you – it would damage him far more than he would ever let on.

But, I digress.

This letter is to tell you the rest of the secret I dropped so bluntly on all of you just before the final confrontation with Riddle. I never did learn to soften bad news, but that's a quibble for another time. This is actually harder than I thought it would be, Hermione.

Arcanus is Hogwarts. He is an entity infused within the very stones that make up Hogwarts, placed here by the four Founders to be a guardian in time of unrest, should anyone try to dismantle the ideals of the school itself. He isn't sentient as you and I would regard sentience, but he does exist within the realms of the school and its grounds. When Riddle chose to attack Hogwarts, Arcanus; through whatever means given to him by the Founders, chose keys to be his eyes and ears in the school. He chose his i 'keys' /i along specific guidelines, guidelines he once tried to explain to me, but alas, it made little sense to me. All I know is that when you next look in your journal, a series of verses will have appeared. Arcanus has told me this will explain everything. I must also confess, that it is not the first time I have come across Arcanus. That's why I was so happy that you would have the chance to understand one of the great mysteries of this wonderful place. Your journal, indeed all the journals from every key past and present, were merely how Arcanus chose to interpret what was happening at Hogwarts.

He has, however, always needed a go-between, a conduit to help the other keys if needed.

I was that conduit, but I didn't want the job. It's very hard to be a conduit for anything good when you're trying to hold the living fibre of all the castle dwellers together. I don't think I succeeded as much as I would have liked, and the fact that I couldn't save Draco, is even more of a burden to me.

Don't worry about him, Hermione. It's the last secret I have to reveal to you. When you reach the end of your life, your journal and your essence, your soul if you will, will always have a home here at Hogwarts. Arcanus; or perhaps more correctly, the Founders, wanted Arcanus to have some ability to learn. They wanted him to be able to choose 'keys' that would help him to not only achieve the safeguarding of the castle in the short term, but add to his abilities in the long term.

If it all sounds fantastical and more than a little confusing, you have my apologies, Hermione. Read your journal again, particularly the verse and I hope it makes more sense to you. You may never really understand just how great the gift is that you've been given, until you find yourself at the end of your life. Then, and only then, will everything be known to you.

Many blessings to both you and Severus, but I still wish I could have seen both of you together. Perhaps it's better this way. Severus knows I would have teased him mercilessly.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Too stunned to do anything other than drop the parchment in her lap, Hermione made a startled sound. Minerva stood and was at her side instantly, drawing her out of her chair and into a bone crushing hug. For long moments neither of them moved, but then Minerva stepped back and held Hermione at arm's length.

"Are you all right, Hermione?" Minerva asked gently.

Struck with indecision, Hermione didn't know whether to nod or shake her head. Sighing, she gently picked up the parchment now lying at her feet and said, "He...he said you're supposed to read it, Minerva, before I touch it with my wand."

"I know Hermione. Albus did mention that he'd like me to read it before it disappears, but I can't give you my letter. I've already sent it to wherever it's supposed to go. Albus was more than a little vague on that point. I suppose I shall just have to wait until I eventually find out for myself."

"But, how does he know all this? I mean, he was a 'conduit' as he puts it, but how does that work exactly?"

"I can't tell you exactly, Hermione, but Albus has had dealings with Arcanus in the past, during the rise of Rasputin. He never did tell me everything about it, but Rasputin's reach was nullified by his muggle murder. Had he not been murdered then, I have no doubt Albus would have been right in the thick of it. It goes without saying that you can't tell anyone other than Severus about that tidbit of history."

"Oh, yes, I would never say anything," Hermione stated earnestly. "So, how do we get in contact with Ac...Arcanus...to find out more about him?"

"We don't, Hermione. If he wants to contact you, he will, but my understanding from the letter Albus wrote me, is that it isn't as simple as that. We will simply have to trust Albus. The verse has already appeared in my journal, so I've no doubt that once you and Severus have a look at your own journals, they will contain the same – or a similar – verse. Now, may I have a look at the letter?"

"Of course, Minerva," Hermione said as she passed the letter into to Minerva's outstretched hand.

"I want to read this before Harry and the Weasleys' arrive," Minerva said absently as she bent her head over Hermione's letter.

"Harry's coming here today?"

"Hmm...yes, he is. I didn't say too much in my note, but I hope I managed to convey how urgent it is. Mind you, the boy has always been a bit obtuse when it comes to subtlety...just like his father in that respect," Minerva mumbled absently intent on what Albus had written.

Hermione smiled briefly at the all too accurate assessment of Harry when he was presented with a puzzle, any puzzle really. Reaching for her mug, Hermione muttered a warming charm, sat back in her chair and watched Minerva read the letter. Hermione had a feeling that Albus' assertions about Severus and her would find Minerva probing for every detail like a Niffler after a lost galleon. Taking a deep breath, Hermione decided that as long as Severus never found out, all would be well with Minerva's intrigues.

Having re-read the letter several times, Minerva eventually placed it gently in her lap and gave Hermione another shrewd look. Hermione tried to meet her stare, but could feel herself blushing, though she tried very hard not to be obvious about it. Before Minerva could ask the first of the many questions Hermione was sure she wanted to ask, there was a tentative knock at the door.

Hermione had never been so grateful for Harry's ability to interrupt. In fact, Hermione was extremely grateful for it at this point in time, but more than aware that the longer Minerva had to think about things, the more personal and earthy her enquiries would become. The shock on Harry's face made Hermione smile. Thinking about it, she supposed it did seem odd that she would be opening Minerva's door, but it was still awkward in a way Hermione hadn't quite realised was possible when she had basically grown up with him, and then apart from him. Harry looked equally unsure of the situation. Minerva remedied the awkwardness by bluntly pointing out that Harry was letting in a draught and should either come in, or stay out and close the door. Shrugging his shoulders, Harry walked through the door, pecked Hermione perfunctorily on the cheek and walked over to talk to Minerva.

Hermione closed the door slowly, ever grateful that Minerva had arranged for Harry to come here first, rather than see Severus alone at Professor Dumbledore's bedside. Hermione was so busy being grateful for Minerva's foresight, that she missed the first part of what Minerva had been saying to her.

"...you go and take Albus' visitor for a walk around the grounds."

"Sorry, Minerva, I was woolgathering. Of course, that would be the best idea I think," Hermione said cagily as she turned towards the fireplace and reached for the Floo powder.

"It's all right, Professor McGonagall. I don't mind someone else being there when I see Professor Dumbledore."

"No, Harry, I don't think it's at all good for the two of you to be in the same room as this visitor," Minerva said knowingly.

The steely look on Harry's face and clenched fists told Hermione instantly that Harry had put two and two together with regards to the identity of Albus' current visitor. Minerva looked directly at Harry, tutted and then nodded to Hermione. Sensing the dismissal, Hermione called out her destination and stepped into the fire, though she could clearly hear Harry casting aspersions on Severus' parentage, or lack thereof, as she left.

Once she'd regained her footing after the dizzying spin of the Floo, Hermione looked over to the armchair and Severus' absolutely devastated look. She could hear Madam Pomfrey moving around on the other side of the screen, but she didn't call out to announce her presence, just moved slowly forward and placed her left hand on the nape of Severus' neck. The reaction was instant. He stiffened, then turned to look directly at Hermione. She graced him with a small smile, then suggested a walk around the grounds. Severus said nothing, just shook his head slowly. It was then that Hermione had to tactfully suggest that he didn't really want to be there when Harry arrived. Hermione saw the same steel laced grimace on Severus' face, but he said nothing. Hermione stood in front of Severus then, between Severus and Albus' bed, then reached out tentatively with her right hand and placed it gently on the side of his face. It was reassuring that Severus leant slightly into her touch, but he still refused to move. Huffing in annoyance, Hermione told him baldly that it was poor form to have two grown men to stand around arguing over someone who was dying. Severus pulled back in shock, stood stiffly and exited the infirmary without looking back to see if Hermione was following.

i 'Just bloody wonderful,' /i Hermione thought to herself. Turning once more to look at Professor Dumbledore, Hermione left the infirmary on Severus' heels without letting Madam Pomfrey know she'd even been there in the first place.

She finally caught up to him just as he pulled open one of the two heavy oak doors at the main entrance. She had to call out to him several times before he even slowed his strides, but it was the angry look he flashed at her that made her flinch. i 'Okay, lots of ground to make up.' /i Given all the stress of the day, Hermione really didn't feel like unruffling Severus' feathers, but she also recognised that she needed to make the first move, because he never would. Hermione knew better to touch him on open ground, particularly with inquisitive eyes sure to catch such an intimate moment, but grabbing his sleeve to force him to stop and look at her seemed the most effective idea that sprang to mind. Though he flinched at her touch, he did at least slow his pace, looked directly at Hermione and said, "I'd like some time to myself, please."

"No, Severus, I want to talk to you. I apologise for what I said, but I really didn't need the two of you to have a slanging match over Albus' bed. This day has been stressful enough as it is without playing referee as well."

"Well, I shall remove that obstacle by avoiding Potter for as long as he remains at Hogwarts."

"Severus, Minerva wants us to have dinner with her in her rooms. Just us, Harry won't be there," Hermione added as she saw the hard look on his face. "Please, just stop and talk to me. I'm tired and upset and I really don't need you sulking on top of it all."

"I am not sulking. You're not the only one upset by all of this, Hermione..."

"I know, Severus," Hermione interrupted. "I just want to talk to you, seeing as we didn't get a chance to talk to each other this morning. I was looking forward to seeing you too, but with everything else, well, I just wanted to be near you."

"You did?"

"Yes, I did. I still haven't given you a 'proper' greeting today, though given the fact that we're in plain view of any students wandering around, I can understand if that might not be possible right now."

"No," Severus said with a wry smile, "not a good idea, though I have to say it might scar the little buggers enough to be entertaining."

Severus then offered his right arm, crooked for Hermione to hold it. Looking at him quizzically, Severus merely grunted and mumbled something about needing to scare any little sods who happened to be watching. Giving Severus a bright smile, Hermione folded her left arm under his and was more than pleasantly surprised when Severus placed his left hand over hers as they started a more leisurely walk towards the lake. Neither of them talked, just looked around the grounds and cast surreptitious looks at each other every so often. After their third circuit of the lake, Severus gently tugged Hermione back towards the main entrance, never letting go of her hand or arm. As they neared the main doors, Hermione reminded Severus that they were to have a light dinner with Minerva and they'd best hurry or they'd be late.

Severus gave a non committal grunt, but squeezed Hermione's hand gently to let her know that he'd heard her. Letting go of her hand, Severus moved ahead of Hermione to open the door for her to precede him inside. He didn't hold her arm again until they were near Minerva's quarters. Looking at the questioning look on Minerva's face as she opened the door to the pair of them, Severus sighed, fully understanding that though it might be a light meal, it would involve heavy grilling of the both of them.

Minerva placed her napkin next to her on the table, then suggested that the three of them sit in the more comfortable chairs for port and coffee. Severus and Hermione both looked at each other and Hermione couldn't help but grin at the arched eyebrow that Severus graced her with. It spoke volumes.

Minerva wasted no time on preliminaries.

"So, how long have you to been seeing each other, Severus?"

"Eight years, Minerva, give or take a few months," Severus said innocently.

Hermione stifled a laugh, but Minerva just huffed and changed targets.

"That's not what I meant, you impossible man, and you know it."

Severus just shrugged his shoulders and reached for his port glass. Hermione chose to try and avoid direct eye contact with Minerva, simply because Minerva knew Hermione couldn't avoid answering any question that was asked of her directly. It didn't work.

"Perhaps you could tell me, Hermione, especially as Severus seems intent on deliberately misinterpreting me."

"Well, I did tell you we were doing a course at the university together when we had dinner recently."

"Yes, you did, but you seem to have missed out a few details, Hermione. You're obviously forgetting that Albus wanted me to read your letter before you sent it off...wherever."

"Oh, my letter. I'd forgotten about it. I haven't touched the sigil at the end of it. It's safe, isn't it? Har...your other visitor didn't see it?"

"Don't worry about it. It's safely tucked away until you can complete Albus' request. However, having read the letter, Albus had more than a few things to say about the two of you, and I've known him long enough to realise he wasn't talking about you platonically."

"It's none of your business, Minerva," Severus stated bluntly as he shifted forward in his armchair and turned to face Minerva directly.

"I know it isn't, Severus, but can't you see I'm happy for the pair of you?"

"It's still none of your business if Hermione and I get on with each other. As she said, we are doing a course together."

"Really? I saw the two of you on your walk and you looked far more friendly than just colleagues, Severus."

Severus stood abruptly then, placed his glass firmly on the wooden table in front of him and stalked out the door, closing it firmly.

Hermione slumped back into her chair, sighed loudly and said, "did you really have to do that, Minerva?"

"Hermione, I'm happy for the two of you. Albus obviously knows more than I do, but I can't actually ask him at the moment. If you can tell me you're happy, I'll stop asking, you know that."

"Yes, I do know that, but it really is too early to tell if we're suited to each other. I...he...we do like each other, as more than friends, but how much more really is the unknown quantity."

Minerva smiled broadly then and said, "I knew it! When we had dinner, you blushed when I talked about Severus."

Hermione flushed then and Minerva clapped her hands together and looked at her with a broad grin.

"You can tell him from me, Hermione, that if he hurts you in any way, I'll have his bollocks for breakfast."

Hermione flushed again and forestalled any more of the conversation by sitting quietly and finishing her port, before she made the excuse of needing an early night. Both women stood and Minerva saw Hermione to the door. Just as Hermione was about to leave, Minerva wrapped her in a warm hug and wished her i _'pleasant dreams.'__i_ Hermione just nodded her head and left with the sound of Minerva's laughter echoing through the door.

Part II of this chapter will be up at the end of the week.

All comments, constructive criticism and reviews are most welcome.

b /b


	14. The Last Secret Part II

**DISCLAIMER: ** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author Note: ** I've included some more extensive notes at the end of this chapter, as I didn't want to detract from the contents of this second part. Again, this chapter isn't betaed, though if you find any glaring errors, I would be grateful if you let me know what they are, so that I can fix them. Many thanks to Shiv5468 for her continued support, and Brit-picking skills. Any mistakes you find within the chapter are mine alone.

** The Last Secret - Part II  
**

Thankfully, Minerva had already arranged for Hermione to use the small guest suite next to her rooms. Hermione really did not feel like knocking on Minerva's door again asking where she was staying for the night. The last thing she needed was a ribald comment to just ruin the evening entirely. Hermione liked Minerva, a lot, but she was damned sure she didn't want her budding relationship with Severus to turn into a spectator sport. Sighing, Hermione stood in front of Minerva's door and hoped that Severus would settle down and not make a huge issue of Minerva's teasing. 'I could never be that lucky,' she thought to herself ruefully. Too tired to think about it and too wrung out by all the things that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, Hermione turned and walked to the next door on the right. Opening the door, she was surprised to see a small sitting room and another open door through which she could see what looked to be a very large and very comfortable bed. Deciding to simply go to bed and sort out Severus in the morning, Hermione pulled back the thick covers, and then went into the bathroom to have a shower and try and relax the tension in her shoulders.

Waking just before dawn, Hermione felt as though she hadn't slept at all. The Headmaster's letter, along with Minerva's probing at dinner and Severus' moodiness, effectively meant that she'd spent the whole night trying to sort out what to do. Rising sluggishly, Hermione called for a House Elf to bring her a light breakfast, and then sat in the armchair facing the large arched window looking out towards the Forbidden Forest to think and plan just how she could stop Minerva's intrigues. If she was truthful, Hermione was worried that Severus would use Minerva's questions as a way of pulling back from her, and that really was the last thing she wanted. All Hermione really wanted to do was to see Severus, wrap her arms around him and snog him senseless. Snorting softly at the turn of her thoughts, Hermione was startled to see a small silver tray appear on the small nest of tables to her right. Standing from her chair, Hermione buttered her toast and poured a steaming cup of tea, before heading back to the armchair. When she could no longer put it off, Hermione wandered into the bedroom, enlarged the clothes she'd stuffed carelessly into her backpack, and once she'd decided on what to wear, went into the bathroom to shower and wake herself up. Hermione was just rinsing her mouth when there were several loud knocks on her door. Spitting out the water, Hermione hastily wiped her face with a towel and then quickly went to open the door. Both Ron and Harry more or less pushed their way through the door together as soon as she had released the latch. All three of them simply looked at each other awkwardly, until Ron gave a low whistle as he looked Hermione up and down. Feeling self conscious, Hermione crossed her arms over her chest before she realised just exactly where Ron's eyes had settled.

Huffing in anger, Hermione asked pointedly, "Do you think you could look at my face, Ron, instead of my tits?"

Hearing a snort behind her, Hermione turned to find Harry helping himself to the remains of her breakfast.

Seeing the sharp look of annoyance on Hermione's face, Harry said, "oh, sorry, Hermione, but we haven't had breakfast yet and this just smells too good."

Harry, at least, had the grace to look sheepish at Hermione's glare, and put the toast back on the plate, before wiping his jam covered fingers on his robes.

Ron, meanwhile, was looking at Hermione like a starving man in front of a feast.

"You look great out of uniform Hermione….really grown up and all."

"Thank you, Ron," Hermione said uncertainly.

"I mean, well, you look good. So, are you seeing anyone, 'cause, you know, we could….?"

"I wasn't interested last year Ron, so I think it holds true that I'm not at all interested this year. Is that why the pair of you are here – to chat me up?"

"No, Professor McGonagall asked us to come and get you and take you up to the Infirmary," Harry said absently, not looking at Hermione as he said it.

"What's happened? Is it Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione asked urgently.

"Yeah, it is," Harry said. "Apparently he's worse than yesterday. He's got this horrible rattling sound in his chest, and they think he hasn't got long to go."

"Oh," Hermione half gasped. "I need to go now. Are the pair of you coming with me?"

"Snape's there too," Harry stated coldly. "I don't want to be in the same room as that greasy tosser, and I can't understand why Professor McGonagall lets him stay anyway."

"Minerva contacted Severus herself yesterday, so I'm quite sure she wants him there," Hermione said emphatically, without thinking of the implications of calling Snape by his first name.

"Severus?" Both Harry and Ron shrieked. They both looked disgusted at hearing his name dropped so casually by Hermione.

"What the f…" Ron started, but Hermione interrupted.

"Don't you dare swear at me, Ron. I haven't seen either of you for over a year, even when you both knew I was unconscious and it wasn't certain if I would wake up. Neither of you took the time to come and see if I was all right."

"Bu…"

"No, Harry, I'm not interested in your excuses. You're both here because Minerva wanted you to know about Professor Dumbledore, but you have absolutely no say in my life. I was more upset that both of you just deserted me after it all, and that you went on to your own personal conquests without even looking back. I've made a life for myself that doesn't include the pair of you, and you've both got a bloody hide to even question me about anything."

"We just don't want you to get hurt," Ron said, though he made it sound less caring and more something said by rote.

"Well, perhaps you should have thought that maybe I needed my two best friends around me last year. I had to cope with the murder of my parents on my own, and then the realisation that you only wanted to get in my knickers, Ron. You didn't care about me for who I am, you just cared enough to try and get what you wanted. When I didn't give into your generous offer, you had no hesitation in calling me frigid!"

"I didn't mean it, 'Mione."

"Well, if you didn't mean it, you shouldn't have said it," Hermione said shortly, as she patted her jeans checking that she had her wand.

"Now, if you're both finished reminiscing, I'd like to go and see Professor Dumbledore before it's too late."

Hermione didn't give either of them a chance to say another word. She opened the door quickly and started walking towards the Infirmary. She didn't look back even when she could hear Ron's last parting shot.

"You reckon he's getting his end in, Harry?"

"I don't know," Harry said menacingly, "but I intend to find out. Come on, let's go."

* * *

Too angry to think clearly, Hermione didn't slow her pace even as she reached the entrance to the Infirmary. 'Warded,' she thought to herself as she felt the gentle probing near the open door. Walking in, Hermione didn't see Madam Pomfrey standing just inside the doorway, until she felt someone tugging at her sleeve.

Startled, Hermione turned to Madam Pomfrey and consciously tried to tamp down her anger when she saw the Medi-witch put a finger to her lips in order to quiet her. Nodding at her, Hermione understood immediately that this was not the time to go storming about muttering dire threats about what she'd like to do to Harry and Ron. Hadn't she told Severus much the same thing yesterday? Looking hastily towards the screens to her left, Hermione felt Madam Pomfrey let her sleeve go, before she patted her arm gently. Walking slowly around the screen, Hermione suddenly realised that there was a silencing charm in place on the screen itself. She was greeted by the sound of loud stuttering, laboured breaths coming from Professor Dumbledore, and a horrible gurgling noise as he breathed out through his open mouth. He hadn't woken, but she couldn't see any trace of the small smile he'd had on his face yesterday. He was lying on his back, propped up on several pillows. Severus was on the other side of the bed and Minerva was holding Professor Dumbledore's hand, as she wiped her eyes with a handkerchief. Stopping next to Minerva, Hermione reached out gently to touch her arm, before she moved forward enough to turn around and envelop the older woman in a hug. Not knowing what to say, Hermione felt Minerva loosen her hold, but before she could let go completely, Hermione hugged her again more firmly, before standing back. Minerva patted her cheek, nodding slightly to Hermione, all the while looking pointedly over towards Severus.

Hermione turned then and looked over at Severus standing stiffly, his arms hanging rigidly on either side of him.

Tightly controlled was perhaps the best way to describe Severus' rigid stance. He looked so tense, and Hermione wondered if perhaps he was unsure of just how he was supposed to show his grief, if at all. His head was bent forwards and his hair fell about his face like an impenetrable curtain, stopping Hermione for an instant. Resolutely, Hermione moved from Minerva's side over towards Severus, though she nearly stopped as he turned to glare at her. Mentally reassuring herself that his glare wasn't directed at her personally, Hermione stood next to him and reached out gently to place her right hand over his left as it rested in a fist stiffly at his side. Severus flinched and his whole body stiffened even more. He tried to pull his hand away, but Hermione refused to let go. Rather than force the issue, Severus gradually relaxed his hand so that their fingers could intertwine, his thumb gently rubbing back and forth over the side of her hand after several uncomfortable minutes.

From the harried look as Madam Pomfrey came around the screens, Hermione guessed that Harry and Ron had finally arrived. Hermione saw her lean over and whisper in Minerva's ear, a soft nod the only answer Minerva was able to give. Hat in hand, Hermione saw an old man come around the screens, falter and then press on towards Minerva resolutely. He said nothing, just stood at Minerva's side with his hand on her shoulder. Occasionally Hermione saw him wipe a tear away with the back of his right hand, but he said nothing to identify himself. As Hermione was looking at him, no doubt with a questioning look on her face, she saw the faintest twinkle in his eye – a very recognisable twinkle. Severus had one more half hearted attempt at disengaging his hand from Hermione, but she refused to let it go. It was left to Hermione to surmise that he knew the identity of the visitor, and then the knut dropped into place.

Aberforth Dumbledore had come to see his older brother one last time.

Minerva would never have expected Aberforth to come, and indeed she wondered how he'd found out. Looking over at Poppy, Minerva knew the answer to her unspoken question, and though she didn't know how to convey it, she was grateful for Aberforth's silent support. Too locked in her own grief, Minerva simply continued to hold Albus' hand, occasionally moving her fingers gently over it as if hoping he'd regain consciousness one last time. It was not to be.

A sudden grunt of anger behind her, made Minerva turn sharply, dislodging Aberforth's hand from her shoulder in the process. Harry was there, with Ron beside him, and both of them were staring daggers at Hermione and Severus. Behind them, Madam Pomfrey looked furious as she stepped forward to intervene. Before either of them could say anything, she pulled both of them away from where they were standing near the screen, until they were back around the other side. Hermione didn't need the silencing charm in place to know exactly what the pair of them were saying. Sighing to herself, she clasped Severus' hand more firmly, looked at him carefully and than back towards Minerva and Aberforth.

She didn't know how long she'd been standing by Professor Dumbledore's bedside, but the gurgling sound was getting louder and his breathing was very erratic. Just as she was thinking back to his letter, and the whole business with Arcanus and her diary, Hermione heard a single shuddering breath released…and then nothing.

The next thing Hermione was consciously aware of, was that Severus' shoulders were shaking, and that she had tears falling onto her blouse and the floor in front of her. Turning to Severus, Hermione let go of his hand and manoeuvred herself to stand directly in front of him. She put both of her arms around him, hugging him closer, as she bent her head towards his chest. It felt like forever before Severus moved his arms around Hermione and placed his cheek on the top of her head. Both of them then stood there together completely unaware of their surroundings. She didn't know how long they stood holding each other like that, but when straightened herself and stepped back, Hermione was aware of the pressing need to blow her nose. Severus released his hold on her then, staring coldly at something over her left shoulder. Hermione, staying close, turned to see what Severus was looking at. Harry and Ron were standing near the screens, looking disgusted. Ron's face was beetroot red and his jaw was moving stiffly back and forth. Hermione surmised that he would grind his teeth into nubs at the rate he was going. Harry also said nothing, settling instead to grace her with a look of such pure loathing that Hermione couldn't help but flinch under his stare. Severus took a step back, and then turned on his heel and went to stand in front of the large window at the end of the Infirmary. Resting his hands on the edge of the windowsill, he bent his head slightly forward, as he looked out silently towards the Forbidden Forest. Hermione went over to stand next to him quietly, after first staring back at Harry and Ron with a warning look. Unsure of whether or not to try and talk to Severus quietly, Hermione shifted from foot to foot, before she looked back to where Harry and Ron had been. They weren't there and Hermione could only guess they had either left of their own accord, or Madam Pomfrey had thrown them out again. Fishing in her pockets for a handkerchief, Hermione turned away from Severus and blew her nose. Stuffing the handkerchief back in the pocket of her jeans, Hermione turned to Severus once more, and placed her right hand on his forearm, squeezing it gently until he looked at her. Trying to smile, to reassure him as well as herself, Hermione leant up and kissed him on the cheek, before she let go of his arm and walked over towards Minerva and Aberforth. Nodding to Aberforth, Hermione then turned to find Minerva still sitting staring at the Headmaster. As far as Hermione could tell, she hadn't moved since Harry and Ron had been evicted the first time, but Hermione stood next to her, bent over and whispered her condolences. Receiving only the barest nod of recognition, Hermione then walked towards the edge of the silenced screens and off to have words with Harry and Ron.

* * *

It didn't take long to find them, though the noise of squealing from more than one seventh year student was bound to be a giveaway. Harry and Ron were standing in the midst of a crowd of students heading into lunch near the Great Hall, talking and regaling them with the story of Fluffy. Seeing Ron slap Harry sharply on his arm, they both turned towards her as she kept walking out the main doors and towards Hagrid's hut. Thankfully, they both took the hint. Hermione didn't think she could grab them both by their collars as she'd seen Madam Pomfrey do, but she was counting on their need to confront her. She didn't have to wait long. 

The sound of heavy footsteps crunching leaves and twigs underfoot behind her, told Hermione that they were following her. Detouring from the path towards Hagrid's hut, Hermione decided to head over towards the disused garden near an old and dilapidated greenhouse. Casting several charms to stop any unwanted students either looking on or hearing anything, Hermione rounded on the pair of them, but before she could say anything Ron had opened his mouth and started to spew invective at her.

"So, is he a good shag, Hermione? I can't believe you turned me down for…that!"

"I turned you down, Ron, because you made me feel cheap, as though I was just going to be one more notch in your wand. And for your information, I am not shagging Severus."

"Could have fooled me," Harry added tartly. "You both looked really chummy back there."

"Yeah, like she wanted to comfort him, eh Harry?" Hermione bristled at the way Ron made it sound so grubby.

Harry just nodded, without looking away from Hermione.

"I thought I knew you, Hermione," Harry started to say, "but maybe it was just that you were too good at hiding things from us. I wouldn't be at all surprised if you didn't do most of your studying flat on your back."

"What, like the pair of you, Harry?" Hermione shot back, annoyed with herself for descending to their level.

Harry practically snarled. "At least we didn't sneak around fucking a greasy bastard of a teacher. That hard up are you?"

"How dare you? How dare both of you stand there and accuse me of that. You don't know me, and what hurts most of all is that I thought you were my friends, my best friends. Perhaps I was wrong?"

"Perhaps you were at that, Hermione," Ron said with quiet menace. "Perhaps if we'd known you had a soft spot for Snape, we'd have been much more careful about hanging out with you? No wonder you hardly ever got detention."

"Argh! I refuse to continue this if the pair of you simply won't listen to me. I like him, Severus, as a person. I like the fact that when I was grieving for my parents last year, he helped me. We share something, he and I, and before you ask, I can't tell you what it is. It certainly isn't as sordid as the pair of you are making it out to be either. I don't know what the future holds for us, but I'm willing to stick around and find out – and that, as far as I'm concerned, is all the pair of you need to know."

"I suppose the greasy git put a spell on you, …" Harry started to say, but one icy look from Hermione stopped him completing the sentence.

"Never mind, I don't want to know," Ron said dismissively, shrugging his shoulders. "Let's leave her too it, Harry. After all, we mustn't keep her away from him for too long. He might come looking for her and then we'd have to put up with them getting mushy."

Harry and Ron both gave her one final hard look, before turning around and walking back towards the castle. Too shocked to think, Hermione merely waved her wand haphazardly over their heads and removed the charms she'd placed on the area. Slumping to the ground, Hermione dropped her wand next to her side and simply stared at the two of them as they walked off, chatting to each other as though nothing had happened.

* * *

The next thing Hermione was aware of was someone standing quietly next to her, casting a long shadow in front of her. Looking over at the black polished boots and upwards into Severus' eyes, Hermione straightened her legs and gingerly tried to stand. Helping her up, Severus bent down and picked up her wand, handing it back to her carefully. 

"Do I want to know why you're sitting on the cold ground staring off into space?"

Hermione just shook her head wearily, not looking up from the ground.

"I thought not. Minerva is looking for you. She wants us to have dinner in the Great Hall tonight, as she has to tell the students about the Headmaster. She said she could do with a few friendly faces around her."

Hermione screwed up her face wondering what that odd statement meant.

"It seems," Severus continued, "that Weasley and Potter couldn't help but give their condolences without a few pithy words about your taste in men. As far as I can tell, Minerva threatened to turn the pair of them into pin cushions for the second years to practice on."

Through a half snort, half sob, Hermione looked up into Severus' face, as he squinted into the setting sun.

"As for myself; once I found out, I promised the pair of them that if they couldn't control themselves around either Minerva or yourself, I would make sure there wasn't enough of them left to scrape into a wand case. I believe they understood my point," he said calmly, with no change in his tone as he looked off into the distance. "They've left the castle, Hermione, but they'll be back tomorrow for the funeral."

Reaching for him then, Hermione was taken aback when Severus stepped away nimbly, shaking his head slowly. Taking a closer look at him, Hermione suddenly realised he was standing before her wearing nearly all black, and except for a cloak, Severus was dressed as he had been for all the years Hermione could remember him teaching her.

"Why are you dressed like that, Severus?"

"I decided to dress for dinner, and nothing says dressed better than this," he quipped with a half smile gracing his lips. "I suggest you change as well, Hermione. It's probably going to be a long night, and I know Minerva is planning to have drinks in the Staffroom at some point."

"You're dressed like that so you can scare the students, aren't you?"

"That would be a beneficial side effect, for sure, but it's one of the few things I managed to pack yesterday," Severus said with a shrug.

"Oh! You know, I have no idea what I've packed. I wasn't looking too closely this morning," Hermione said absently. "I suppose I can Transfigure something after I've had a shower. What I do know, Severus, is that I'd like a 'proper' greeting at some stage today."

"Hmmm…I suppose that could be arranged, but not on such open ground, if you don't mind."

"If I told you I could arrange for you to give me said 'proper' greeting without an audience, would this open ground be all right?"

Not waiting for an answer, Hermione cast the same series of charms she'd used to shield the area prior to her confrontation with Harry and Ron. Dropping her wand on the ground next to her right foot again, Hermione looked at Severus intently, and then, stepped closer to him. She placed both hands on either side of his head, before moving them around to the back of his neck. Nudging him forward, she turned her face just so and kissed him directly on the lips. Too startled to do anything at first, Severus swiftly wrapped his arms around Hermione and returned the favour. Moving her fingers experimentally, Hermione stroked the skin of Severus' neck, revelling when he shuddered every so often. He didn't let go, and nor did she, but she felt his arms slowly slide gently down her back as they came to rest on her hips. Moving closer still, Hermione continued to explore his mouth, their tongues twining together, as she enjoyed the sensation of both of them moulding themselves to each other. Eventually Severus drew back, but not before he'd moved his face to her left side and placed an open mouthed kiss on her neck. Keeping his hands on her hips, Severus straightened up, smiled openly and said, "I hope that counts as a proper greeting, Hermione."

"Oh, yes," Hermione countered, slightly breathless, "though I think you might have to do it again, just to make sure."

"I'm afraid it will have to be later, or you'll have to explain to Minerva just why we missed dinner. After last night, I don't fancy that, not that I think Minerva's in any fit state start prodding us again for tidbits, but it doesn't hurt to be safe rather than sorry."

"I suppose you're right," Hermione mock pouted, "but if you think I'm going to bed without a goodnight kiss, you'd better think again, Severus."

"I'll take it under advisement, Hermione. Now, you'd best take down the shields before anyone comes looking for us. You should have just enough time to change before dinner."

* * *

Walking into the Great Hall with Severus beside her was nerve wracking. Severus allowed her to precede him past the student tables and up to their places next to each other on high table. The Headmaster's chair was empty, with his wand laid gently across the plain white plate. Minerva was sitting in her customary place on the right and Severus and Hermione in the two extra chairs placed directly to the left of the empty chair. Hermione could hear the rustle of voices around her and she supposed they; the students and other teachers, were all wondering just why she and Severus were eating at high table on a school night. Hermione hadn't packed anything suitable for dinner, but she managed to transfigure her navy jacket into a navy set of robes, under which she'd managed to find a skirt and blouse to match…with a little help. 

All the upset over the course of the day had left Hermione exhausted and not in the least bit hungry. Having watched Severus eat a large roast and then line up for pudding as well, just two nights ago, Hermione realised just how stressful the day had been for him as well. He just picked at his dinner, whilst looking out over the student tables every so often. Seeing a slight smirk out of the corner of her eye near the end of the meal, Hermione surmised that he'd caused some poor unfortunate student to flinch and turn away. It took all of Hermione's willpower not to lean across and whisper in his left ear for him to behave. Whilst his contrite look would have been priceless, it was something better left to a time not filled with so much sadness. The last thing Hermione needed was for Severus to get annoyed with her again and exit from the Great Hall as soon as was polite or possible. Minerva would never let her hear the end of it for one thing, but the tittering and whispering of the other staff and students would have been even worse.

Hermione's thoughts were interrupted with the scraping of chair legs on the stone of the floor. Looking past Severus, Hermione saw Minerva contemplate standing fully, leaning both hands heavily on the table in front of her, only to sit again quickly as she reached out with a knife to tap the edge of her empty wine goblet. The noise of the students all chattering gradually subsided into silence, though Hermione could still hear the occasional whisper from the Hufflepuff table in front of her. Minerva continued to tap her glass; never varying the strength of the steady tapping until there was absolute quiet in the Great Hall. Looking to her left towards Hermione and Severus, Minerva turned back to face the student tables, took a deep breath and began to speak in a croaky, hushed voice.

"Students of Hogwarts, it is my unfortunate duty as Deputy Headmistress of this school, to inform you of…about Professor Albus Dumbledore's absence this evening. As many of you are no doubt aware, he has been ill in the Infirmary since yesterday evening. This morning his condition deteriorated and at a little after eleven o'clock this morning, he died, with his closest friends and family in attendance."

Taking a deep breath, Minerva paused, as much to steady herself as it was to accommodate the wave of noise from the students in front of her. Allowing them some time to chatter amongst themselves, Minerva again tapped her glass, though she did not need to do so for nearly as long the second time.

"The funeral will be tomorrow afternoon and all students are excused from classes to attend if they so wish. I would ask that you not make too much noise in the castle prior to the funeral, as we are expecting many mourners to arrive later this evening and in the morning. I would also ask that you not crowd some of the more recognisable guests unless they give you their express permission to approach them. That is all," Minerva finished hoarsely.

The knife that Minerva had been holding clattered onto the wooden table loudly a she leant forward suddenly, her face in her hands.

Both Madam Pomfrey and Severus stood at almost the same time, though Severus allowed Poppy to move past him first as he made his way over to stand at Minerva's left side. Reaching out gently, his right hand hovering for an instant above her shoulder, Severus gently laid his hand on her shoulder as he looked out over the quiet whispering throughout the Great Hall. Minerva nearly dislodged his hand when she slumped back suddenly in the chair. Poppy Pomfrey then moved to cup Minerva under her right elbow. Severus mimicked Poppy's action and they both managed to help Minerva stand unsteadily from the table. Hermione, though slower to rise, had both hands on the back of Minerva's chair and with a nod from Severus, whisked it away lest Minerva trip over it. Walking slowly, Poppy and Severus helped the mute and unsteady Minerva out of the Great Hall, where the staircases, as if sensing their haste, combined to allow the three of them to make their way as quickly as possible to Minerva's quarters.

Once Severus and Poppy had steered Minerva into the bedroom, Severus left the room, closing the door quietly. Moving woodenly over to the single armchair, Severus slumped into it, letting out an exhausted sigh. Sitting forward on the edge of the chair, Severus scrubbed his hands over his face several times, before leaning back into the comfort of the chair. Suddenly, he stood abruptly as he realised that Hermione had not followed them upstairs. Relaxing gradually, Severus realised that Hermione was probably still trying to get away from some of her former teachers. Sitting down again, Severus debated whether or not to wait for her here or go back to his guest chambers in Ravenclaw Tower. As if thinking about her had made Hermione aware of his internal debating, there was a soft knock at the door behind him. Severus stood and opened the door just as Hermione was lifting her hand to knock again. Looking at each other intensely, Severus stood back so that Hermione could come in. Unknown to the pair of them, Poppy Pomfrey was watching their interaction with each other quietly from the open doorway leading to the bedroom. Closing the door with a quiet click, Severus and Hermione both looked over to see Poppy moving towards the fireplace. Ordering supper for the three of them, Poppy moved to Severus' recently vacated chair. Whether by accident or design, that left Severus and Hermione to sit on the lounge facing Poppy's armchair.

"How is she?" Severus asked quietly.

"Resting with the aid of some Dreamless Sleep. She'll need all her strength to get through tomorrow," Poppy answered just as quietly.

"Yes," was all that Severus could say.

Hermione's contribution was to try and stifle a yawn, though she wasn't very successful.

Poppy tutted at her and added, "I don't suppose I could convince you to take a dose as well, Miss Granger?"

"I'll be fine, Madam Pomfrey. I just need a good night's sleep after all the stress today."

"So I heard."

Hermione looked at Madam Pomfrey pointedly before turning sharply as Severus snorted.

"How…"

"I think you'll find, Hermione, that Poppy has a far better idea of the things that go on in this school than many would give her credit for," Severus interrupted smoothly, not taking his eyes off the Medi-witch.

"Just so," Poppy said, "though you'll also find that I rarely repeat what I've been told."

Hermione could only nod, before she saw Madam Pomfrey rise quickly and take the tea tray from the elf standing silently near the fireplace.

Placing the tray on the coffee table in front of them, Poppy resumed her seat.

"I'm not letting either of you leave until you've had something to eat and drink. As much as tomorrow will be an ordeal for Minerva, it will also be trying for the pair of you."

Hermione could see Severus open his mouth quickly to protest, but Poppy continued undaunted.

"No. Severus, it is poor form for you to pass out at a funeral. I watched both of you as you pushed your food around your plates at dinner. You both have two choices – a night in the Infirmary with Dreamless Sleep, or tea and cake now?"

Letting out a breath loudly, Severus leant forward without further argument said dryly, "Shall I play mother?"

Hermione giggled nervously, causing Severus to turn and look at her warningly. Deciding that discretion was the better option, Hermione leant forward to pick up the milk jug, before silently pouring some into each cup as she saw Madam Pomfrey's slight nod. When neither Severus or Hermione looked as though they were going to be the first to eat, Poppy huffed in an exasperated manner, as she stood and cut two large slices of sponge cake, before handing them over with an arched look on her face. Both Hermione and Severus sighed quietly at the same time, as they reached out to take the plates being thrust in front of them. Poppy was true to her word. She sat back in her chair and sipped her tea as they both ate, and though she would never have said anything, she was delighted when they both; without prompting, each cut themselves another slice.

"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Poppy asked lightly as both Hermione and Severus set down their empty plates.

Severus' only response was to scowl at Poppy's smile, whilst Hermione suddenly realised not only that she had been hungry, but that she was close to falling asleep where she was. Another yawn, which Hermione did not even attempt to stifle, saw Poppy stand in front of the pair of them tutting.

"I've half a mind to put you in the Infirmary for the night anyway, Miss…Hermione. You don't mind if I call you Hermione, do you?"

"Of course not, Madam Pomfrey."

"Best you call me Poppy then. Madam Pomfrey makes me feel horribly old, and everyone who is not a student calls me by my first name. As you're no longer a student, Hermione, well, just call me Poppy."

Hermione yawned again and then stood wearily, all the while nodding as Poppy spoke to her.

"Now, it's off to bed with the pair of you. The morning will roll around far more quickly than either of you realises. Minerva will need some distraction in the morning if she's going to be in any fit state to make it through tomorrow afternoon. They'll be all and sundry wandering through here tomorrow and I'd ask that both of you make sure she doesn't tire herself out too much."

Severus and Hermione cast a sideways look at each other as Severus stood slowly as well. Inclining his head once to Poppy, Severus touched Hermione lightly on her right elbow and they both edged their way around the table and towards the door to leave. Neither of them turned around as Poppy tidied up the tea things, the sound of crockery being moved was the only noise in the stillness.

Opening the door for Hermione once again, Severus did not remove his hand from her elbow as he closed the door behind him and they both continued slowly to Hermione's rooms next door. Stopping, Hermione simply turned the door handle and opened the door. Waiting for some scathing words from Severus about her lack of wards, Hermione was more surprised that he said nothing. Letting go of her elbow, Severus made to leave, but Hermione tugged his sleeve, causing him to turn around with a questioning look.

"I meant what I said outside before, Severus."

Looking at her blankly, Severus was about to ask what she was talking about, when it occurred to him exactly what Hermione meant. Turning his head to look up and down the corridor, Severus gave Hermione the barest of smiles. Leaning forward slowly, Severus moved his head to kiss her cheek before he stood back. Hermione smiled ruefully, and then tugged him by the shirtsleeves inside the door. Warding it, she turned around and moved closer to him, saying cheekily, "Whilst that was indeed a kiss, Severus, it's not exactly what I had in mind."

"Oh, well, let's just put it down to fatigue then, shall we?"

Reaching up with her right hand, Hermione let her fingers ghost across his cheek, as she stepped closer and put her left hand on his right shoulder. Taken aback by her enthusiasm, Severus mimicked her movements as they moved closer to each other. This time though, Severus leant forward and kissed Hermione on her forehead, before moving his hand so that he could kiss her on each cheek. Moving his head back slightly, Severus changed direction to kiss Hermione just below her left ear and then alternately nibbled and flicked his tongue down her neck, before he planted another open mouthed kiss where her neck met her shoulder. Hermione groaned softly at his last kiss and Severus quirked one side of his mouth into a smile at her obvious appreciation. Deciding that he wanted to hear that sound again, Severus languidly kissed her in the same spot again, flicking his tongue at the same time. Hermione's groan was louder and she clung to him even as he tried to stand up straight again.

"Is that the sort of goodnight kiss you were after Hermione?"

Hermione could only nod clumsily, fully aware of the heat in her face and neck. Severus took both his hands away from her upper arms, but then changed his mind and ghosted them over her cheeks one last time before he started to move around her towards to door. Hermione could only turn and look at him drowsily. Neither of them said anything as Severus opened the door, stopped one last time to look at Hermione, and then left, closing the door softly behind him. Lightly touching the side of her neck, Hermione's smile turned into a yawn as she turned to make her way to bed. Poppy was right – tomorrow was going to be a very long day.

* * *

Severus, true to his word, had knocked lightly on her door just after eight o'clock the next morning and Hermione had only then realised just how deeply etched the dark circles under his eyes were. She knew she'd slept better, if only through exhaustion and the overload of emotions she'd endured the day before with Harry and Ron, as well as their silent vigil at the Headmaster's bedside. After a thorough good morning kiss, Severus had stayed to have breakfast with her, before both of them left her rooms, and again found themselves knocking on Minerva's door. They both stayed with Minerva all morning, leaving only to escort her down to stand in the open doors of the main entrance in the early afternoon. 

Hermione was surprised to see such a large number of mourners on either side of the open hearse drawn by two thestrals. The mourners had arranged themselves in an honour guard that almost reached the school gates, before veering off towards the Forbidden Forest. All of the teachers were standing on the steps and Hermione saw Aberforth Dumbledore standing a little apart from everyone else at the bottom of the steps. Hermione was startled out of her observations as Minerva turned to her, hugging her firmly, before she turned and did the same to Severus. Walking slowly down the steps, Minerva linked arms with Aberforth as Severus offered his arm to Hermione. As they moved down the steps, Hermione could hear the shuffling of the teachers as they followed them. It was only later that Hermione understood that as they passed, the mourners lining their route to the grave site had fallen in behind them, forming a huge snaking procession of black.

Hermione had never realised that a funeral could be so exhausting, and though the words said at the graveside had been thankfully brief, she couldn't wait to leave and quietly return to her guest rooms, preferably with Severus. Most of the mourners had already adjourned to the Great Hall for the wake, but several had stayed to quietly talk to Minerva. Hermione had not seen Harry or Ron amongst the mourners, but she also knew that she had not actively looked for them in the sea of faces either. Looking over at Severus as he stood talking to Aberforth Dumbledore, Hermione watched quietly as the two men shook hands firmly before Severus turned and walked over towards her. As he came closer, Severus put out his left arm, clasping Hermione's right hand, before he raised their joined hands to his lips and kissed her gently on her knuckles.

* * *

** Additional Notes: ** Firstly, my apologies to anyone whom I have inadvertently upset with the contents of this chapter. I did, however, owe it to the characters to keep the story as true to my original plan as I could – canon shafted though it is. I have never found it quite as hard to write a chapter, as I have this one. I have invested a huge amount of myself into this very long two part chapter, and I have to admit, I never ever thought I would draw on my healthcare background quite so much. It is my firm belief that everyone deserves the upmost dignity and respect on their way out of this world, as they usually receive on the way in. I am hoping that I have managed to convey that theme throughout the chapter? I will not know the answer to that question unless you; the reader, tells me if the chapter has worked, or flopped. 

_**All comments, constructive criticism and/or reviews are most welcome. **_


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